Resolute In The Dust
by SkeeDev
Summary: It's proven, nothing and no one can get between Punk and Eli. But their downfall could very well be from the one thing they fought so hard for; each other. Will they be able to stand the ultimate test, or will their own prides get in the way? Sequel to Redemption In Two Fold.
1. The Era of Strength

**The Era of Strength. **

What the hell did he just say?

I gaped at Vince, sitting, dumbstruck, in his office.

"Come again?"

"Basically, Eli. Vince is saying, we want you to work for TNA for a little bit, win their title and leave. I'm sure Punk has showed you how to leave a company, right?"

There was a hint of disdain in his humorous tone.

"And how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"We've drafted a preliminary contract for you to present to TNA officials. It's worded a specific way, so you can leave any time. We've been considering this for a while now Eli. We've just been waiting for the right time." Vince stated, pulling out a stapled bunch of papers and handing them to me.

I absentmindedly flipped through them.

I had lawyers for this shit.

I had no idea what it said.

"Why me?" I asked, looking back at Vince.

He seemed puzzled, and glanced at Hunter.

"Eli. We've invested a lot of money in you. We're not going to give you up without a fight. Don't worry about that. You're one of the fastest rising Diva's in this company's history. And if you can blaze through our talent roster, you sure as hell can over there."

"All that's needed on that contract, is you and your lawyer's signature. And you can bring it to TNA headquarters."

"Why can't you just bring back a title? It can't be that hard."

Hunter sighed at my words.

"We don't want to bring one back, we want to make a new one."

"One that, in another contract to be sighed at a later date, gives you the ability to design. You could be responsible for a whole new era of championship title reigns."

Oh that was just low.

Appealing to my obese pride to get my vote.

I couldn't lie, it was working.

"Do I get time to think?"

"No. We need an answer now."

I looked Vince square in the eye.

He was serious.

"Once you leave this room, the offer is off the table."

"Eli, it's ok to say no. We can just start negotiations for your next contract. But if you were to come back with a title around your waist, you'd be in the spot light. Maybe even get another shot at that mixed tag team nonsense you've been nagging us about."

Damn.

It wasn't just Vince delivering the low blows, it was Hunter too.

"How long would I be gone?"

They seemed hopeful at my question.

"Only six months. That's how long that contract is for."

It's not for that long.

Plus, they said once I get the title I could leave when ever I wanted.

And that'd be a walk in the park.

I sighed.

I couldn't believe I was doing this.

"I have some conditions."

I saw both Vince and Hunter visibly relax.

"I get to tell Punk and Kelly about it."

Vince furrowed his brows.

"Or no dice."

I crossed my arms stubbornly, leaning back in the chair.

The two of us had a sort of staring contest for a few moments.

Little did boss man know, I always won staring contests.

And this time was no exception.

He sighed.

"Fine. What else?"

"I want to stay on Raw until I leave."

Vince cocked a brow at my request, glancing at Hunter.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess we could move the schedule around a bit." Hunter muttered.

I smirked, wondering just how much I could get from them.


	2. Opportunity Only Knocks Once

One thing Punk would be happy about today, was that I got back just after noon and we could finally have our date day.

But there was plenty he wasn't going to like.

I just hoped that I wasn't one of them.

Headquarters had sprung for my flight home too, first class again.

But, I didn't need to start my 007 mission just yet.

My contract didn't expire until midnight, April 1st.

How fitting.

And Vince said that they had plans for me until then.

But that was just great.

My contract expired the night before WrestleMania.

Vince also said that I was still invited to all of the festivities, which either way I was still planning on going to.

But as I closed the distance between me and Punk to only a few miles, I grew increasingly uneasy.

I couldn't sit still any longer.

I was thankful for the hotel a few minutes later.

At least now I could move, decipher what exactly I was going to say to him.

I didn't get very long at all to do that.

"Eli, you're back!"

That was his Chicago-twang yelling to me across the lobby.

I snapped my head up seeing him jog on over.

He was with Kofi, per usual, and Sheamus.

"Hey."

I tried to sound excited, and by his slightly furrowed brows, I'd failed.

"Looks like a party over there. Where were you headed?"

I nodded in the direction he'd just come from.

"We were going to head out to get some lunch. You want to come too?" he asked hopeful.

For some reason, eating lunch with Kofi and Sheamus didn't seem like a date.

I smiled.

"Nah. You go have fun. I'll find Kelly."

He frowned slightly as I leaned up to kiss him.

But there wasn't any more discussion after that.

The guys were bugging him to leave, and I wasn't about to make him the laughing stock of all his friends.

I just didn't have it in me today.

It was nice to see him happy.

I had to soak it all in now, because later he wouldn't be.

Punk took a slow step back, I reached out and grabbed his sweatshirt.

He turned back, brows furrowed, head cocked slightly.

I looked up at him, feeling almost shy.

"I love you." I whispered, that was a treat just for us.

Over the next second I got to watch his face gradually turn from his previous, obvious worrisome face, to a genuine smile.

One that took my breath away.

His hands came around my hips, pulling me closer so he could kiss me.

It was slow and sweet, and just about all I could get with Kofi and Sheamus watching.

He pulled his face back far enough for me to look at his hazel eyes.

"I love you too."

There was a small smile on his face.

But I could still see the worry beneath it.

He kissed my forehead, and was dashing off towards his friends.

I sighed. I hoped that was still the case later.

I felt my phone go off in my jacket pocket as I walked towards the elevators.

It was Punk.

I couldn't stop the tiny smile spread across my lips.

_Despite being made fun of by my friends right now, I wanted to tell you that I'll be back in like an hour. And when I do, we're going to talk about why you're upset. _

I sighed.

Of course we'd have to talk about it.

I just needed to figure out what to say.

And I had an hour to do so.

_Your on._

It was after I hit send that I noticed the typo.

Dammit.

He didn't wait a second before replying.

_*You're_

I laughed out loud, rolling my eyes, waiting for the elevator doors to open.

_Babe. Shut up._

Maybe Kelly would have an idea of what to do.

His reply a few moments later got my head spinning around the different reactions he could possibility display when I broke the news to him.

_For you baby? Anything._


	3. Not Over Night But We'll Be Strong Again

**Hey all! I hope you're having fun with the new story! And don't fret, I am TRYING to make my chapters longer and more frequent. Emphasis on trying. But I can't make any promises. I just want you all to remember, to have fun, and review! I've worked really hard on this series, and I want to know what you think so I can make it even better!**

**With love, **

**Skee.**

"Eli. You're an idiot." Kelly muttered, shaking her head.

I'd told her the gist of my conversation with Vince and Triple H.

And almost instantly, I could tell, she wasn't happy.

"That doesn't help me..." I trailed on.

I'd asked her how to tell Punk because obviously I'd done a horrible job telling her.

She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her water.

We were around the corner at a small sea food restaurant.

Kelly had just finished eating her Salmon lunch and I'd barely touched my grilled chicken sandwich.

It was hard to eat with such a weight on my shoulders.

"I don't know what to tell you Eli. He's not going to be happy." she shook her head.

I raked a hand through my hair.

I already knew that.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm just worried I'll make it sound worse then it is."

I heard Kelly scoff.

"It can't get much worse, Hun."

I sighed.

This was going to be tricky.

I looked down at my phone on the table, it light up from a text from Punk.

_Kofi wanted to show me this new game he got in his room. I'll be a little longer then an hour, ok? _

He was so sweet.

If only I wasn't such an ass, I could at least pretend I deserved him.

But instead I made rash, barely thought through decisions that could have drastic effects on our relationship.

And they usually did.

_Alright. I'll just head to the gym. I missed my morning work out anyways. Thanks for keeping me up all night._

I didn't have to wait too long for a response.

Kelly was still babbling in the background, but somehow we'd gone from my problem to her's.

It was confusing.

_Woah. Whose the one that switched my decaf coffee with regular? Yeah. That's what I thought._

I laughed out loud, earning me an eyebrow cock from Kelly.

_Hey now. I was talking about after that silly goose._

The waitress came around, and left me a box for my now cold sandwich.

We paid and were heading out the door when he replied.

_That reminds me. You have three strikes against you. Now you're in trouble._

_I'm pretty sure it was four. _

"Will you stop texting and listen to me dammit! I'm trying to help you!" Kelly barked in the middle of the street.

A few people passing by turned to look at her, but she ignored them.

I sighed.

Oh so now we were back on me?

Ok.

"Sorry. Please, tell me your thoughts on my situation."

My voice was laced with sarcasm.

But Kelly being Kelly didn't give two shits and told me her opinion anyways.

"Tell him the truth. Yeah, he'll be mad. But imagine how mad he'll be if you didn't tell him until the last second?"

And I did.

I imagined Punk pissed beyond all belief, at me and leaving.

I shook the thought from my head before it could simmer too long.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I finally said walking back into the hotel lobby.

"Of course I'm right." she said matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes and left her in the elevator when my floor came.

I'd put my sandwich in the mini-fridge and was changing for the gym when Punk replied again.

_You're damn right there was four. You see how I spelt you're right?_

I rolled my eyes.

_Yeah yeah yeah. That's one strike for you Lover boy._

I put my phone back on the bed, and finished dressing in the spandex shorts and tank top.

I laced up my black sneakers, pulled my hair back into a ponytail.

I found my ever elusive headphones, hiding at the bottom of my gym bag, grabbed my phone, and was gone.

Running had always been a sort of medicine for me.

Something Pops taught me years ago. T

oo bad I never used it until now.

I might have been able to avoid years of alcohol abuse and several near death experiences.

But the one great thing about running, even in such a busy city like Memphis, was that once I put on my music, I was lost.

Lost to the rest of the world.

Very rarely do things break my attention from the ground beneath my feet.

I'd passed the hotel a few times in my loop, but it wasn't until over an hour later that I saw Punk outside on the sidewalk.

His brows were furrowed until he saw me.

Then he looked relieved.

I jogged up to him, stopping just a few inches from him.

"Yeah, don't you see my headphones in? That means don't bother me or I'll growl at you. Grr." I stated, mimicking him.

He furrowed his brows playfully.

"You're so funny." he started sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at me.

"But we have to go soon. The show starts at five."

I checked my phone that was strapped to my arm with velcro.

It read 3:35.

I guess I'd been gone for a while.

"Alright. I still have to do some upper body stuff. But that wont take very long." I stated, feeling only slightly out of breath still as we walked towards the hotel gym.

It didn't have a great selection of workout equipment.

But I wasn't up for using the big stuff today.

"Yeah. I've already been in a gym once today. I'm not going again."

He must have gotten in a workout while I was across the country.

I didn't dwell on the past morning too long.

I'd just tense right back up if I did.

I just smiled, and kissed him goodbye for now, heading towards the gym area.

Like I'd said, it wasn't that impressive.

So Punk's workout must have taken place at an actual gym.

There were several different dumbbells lined along the mirrored wall.

A treadmill and elliptical were facing a TV that was stuffed in the corner.

There was quite a bit of room though.

I just grabbed a set of dumbbells and laid down on the padded bench facing the mirrors.

After fifty-something reps, I was finished with that.

My arms only slightly aching.

But that couldn't stop me.

I went to the floor, it a rubber padding not unlike the one used for shows; hard but softer then the floor.

I positioned myself for some push ups, only losing count twice.

From there I spent the next four minutes doing planks.

But even with my abs burning, I wasn't quite done.

Just for fun, I kicked up into a handstand.

It'd been so long since I'd done one, I had to concentrate really hard on not falling on my face.

But all that was moot when I felt a hand grab my ankle.

Instantly, I fell down to one elbow, and my whole body came crashing down after that.

"I thought you'd have better balance then that."

I was about to turn and freak the hell out before I recognized the voice.

It was Ted.

I looked up, to see him smirking at me.

Laughing at me was more like it.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You're lucky I like you. I was about to kick your ass." I muttered, standing up from my awkward position on the floor.

Despite falling on my face moments ago, I felt a lot better.

More relaxed.

I headed over to the water cooler, wrapping up my headphones along the way.

"So why are you bugging me in the first place?" I asked him, taking a small cup from the dispenser and filling it with cool water.

It was nice.

"I was coming in from the gym a few blocks away, and saw you. I thought I'd say hi, since I haven't seen you in a while."

That must have been the same gym Punk went to earlier.

"Plus, I wanted to see how you were."

I cocked a brow at him as I sipped form the cup some more.

"I heard about your run in the other day with Randy."

I gulped down the mouthful of water I had, hard.

Well this was an unexpected conversation angle.

I crumpled the paper cup in my hand, then threw it in the trash behind me.

"I don't want to talk about it." I muttered, walking past Ted towards the lobby.

He was right next to me, seeming surprised by my cold shoulder.

"I can see that." he muttered, earning him a glare. He raised his hands defensively.

"Eli, he's not mad at you."

Ted's words were low, as we waited for the elevator.

I furrowed my brows, begging to differ.

If he really knew about our run in the other day, he'd be thinking otherwise too.

"He's never been in this position before. He doesn't know what to do."

I scoffed.

"And I do? I'm more lost then he is."

I couldn't help the twinge of heartache seep into my voice.

I knew he would be mad.

When we broke up last year, I was mad at him for months.

I couldn't expect any less from him this time around.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you knew."

Finally, the elevator doors opened in front of me.

I stepped in, expecting Ted to follow.

"I got to go meet up with Cody. I'll see you later though." he gave me a sincere smile, and disappeared behind the closing doors.


	4. Fruits of My Labor

**Hey all. I just wanted to say, the story line I'm starting might be a little confusing, but it all will come together soon. So no worries. I got this. ;)**

**With love,**

**Skee.**

It was 4:30 when I got out of the shower.

Of course Punk was sitting in the chair next to the bed, waiting for my slow ass.

I ignored the dozen of phone calls from Kelly; she'd just be nagging me to leave anyways.

I rushed around for a few more minutes, and was finally ready to leave.

Punk didn't say much, that was useful at least, until after we got to the arena, just in time.

I found Kelly standing next to a door that wasn't the Diva's locker room, in her ring gear, arms crossed, thumping her foot on the floor impatiently.

I sighed, stopping next in front of her.

Here it comes.

"This is new." she muttered, pointing to the name on the door.

It was mine.

I smirked.

"Lets just call it, a thank you gift." I shrugged, opening the door.

It was just one of the many rewards I'd listed to Hunter and Vince upon our meeting earlier.

It wasn't the biggest dressing room I'd ever seen.

But I liked not having to bare ass in front of the Diva's.

There were just somethings no one got used to; changing in public, or seeing the imperfections of another person.

I threw my bag down on the table at the far end of the room, laying out my ring gear.

I looked back at Kelly, she looked far from satisfied with my answer, but she left it at that.

For now, I dreaded.

"You've been late a lot lately." she muttered, sitting on the couch against the wall, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I lost track of time at the gym." I muttered ripping off my shirt and throwing it in the table. Kelly just gave me the, 'sure you did' look she always did.

But this time I was telling the truth.

"I did. I swear."

A moment later, she sighed.

I guessed I'd convinced her.

"Did you remember to sign in?"

I groaned loudly.

"Dammit. No. I forgot."

I pulled on my top faster, then pulled my pants down, slipping on my trunks as fast as I could. I had to be careful though, my shoulder was feeling especially tender today.

While I was in the shower, it was bleeding.

That's why I was in there so long, it took a while to stop.

I didn't want it to start back up now.

I tied the jog string of my trunks, and pulled on my leather ring jacket.

It still looked brand new, even though it'd been almost a month since Pops gave it to me.

I sat jumped up and sat on the table, lacing up my boots.

This was the longest part of getting ready.

Some days it worked perfectly, only took a few minutes, but days like today, it look almost ten minutes to lace up right.

First it was too tight, then too loose, then they were uneven.

It was a headache.

Eventually I decided it was good enough, and ran off to go check in.

That was something I should have done first.

It's how management remember what days I showed up for work.

I made it just in time before they turned over the list to Teddy Long.

I signed in and fudged a time, I wasn't too concerned.

What were they going to do, fire me?

While I was up there, I checked the card for tonight.

I was up against Kelly. I smirked.

"Don't think for one second I'm going to let you beat me."

I heard her voice behind me.

I turned and shrugged.

"I wont be thinking it out there, I'll be making it happen." I grinned.

I loved going up against Kelly.

It was always something new with her.

But this time, I was going to win.

I would have continued with the banter, but my stomach growled.

I never did eat the rest of the sandwich, and I was regretting it now.

I still had plenty of time until my match, it wasn't for another hour.

So I could stop by catering for a powerbar or something.

It was good to have food in my stomach.

I'd forgotten about breakfast this morning, and barely touched my lunch.

I knew I'd be half dead by the end of the night, even with this oddly delicious powerbar.

I'd just finished devouring the bar, when I spied Punk stretching around the corner of the men's locker room.

I walked quietly behind him, crouching behind him and covering his eyes.

"If you say King Kong Bundy, I'll slap you." I muttered, earning me a chuckle.

He turned his face away from my hands, and kissed my cheek.

"Why do you smell like peanut butter?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I just ate a peanut butter powerbar." I muttered, embarrassed that he could smell it on me.

"Who are you on the card with tonight?" I asked, changing the subject from my peanut breath.

He smirked.

"Miz. Tonight will give me some time to scope out his moves and some counters for WrestleMania."

I mentally slapped myself.

I'd forgotten Punk was going to WrestleMania.

He was going to fight the Miz for the WWE Championship.

I nodded and plopped down next to him on the floor.

We weren't right in the way, but we were as inconveniently placed as we could be; it was perfect.

We continued to chit chat about the match card for a little bit.

I was reaching over my legs for my toes when Punk spoke.

"Are you ok?" his tone was soft.

I glanced at him, cocking a brow.

"It's just, all day you've seemed a little uneasy." he trailed on.

I just sat there, half bent forward, frozen.

Now was not the time or place to tell him about my meeting.

I wouldn't be able to handle the kind of response I knew he was going to have.

But he'd know something was up if I didn't say anything.

I could feel my throat start to dry up, my breathing now a rough gasp.

I tried to calm down, but the anxiety was already out of control.

He would hate me.

I was sure of it.

But I hated not telling him everything.

It hurt almost as bad as lying.

I jumped when I felt his hand on my arm, snapping me back to reality.

"Babe. You ok?"

I swallowed hard and nodded.

I dared a glance at him, of course he was far from convinced.

"I saw Ted earlier." I started, earning a pair of furrowed brows from Punk.

"He's been talking to Randy a lot. And some of what he said kind of got to me."

Ok.

So that wasn't too far from the truth.

But it wasn't close enough to stop the bad taste in my mouth.

Punk's face looked torn, between being mad, and being sympathetic.

"But we don't need to talk about that." I muttered, popping up from the floor.

The show was just now starting, and I needed to warm up.

Punk was right behind me, standing up too.

I knew by the look on his face, that wouldn't be the end of it.

I dreaded that part.


	5. Nothing Ever Really Changes

**Yes. I know. It is a short one. But the next one is EXTRA long. Like super long. So that kind of makes up for it. Right? But in this case, have fun, reviews please!**

**With love, **

**Skee.**

Being distracted and wrestling never went well together.

Especially when Kelly Kelly was in that equation.

She spent fifteen minutes slapping me around the ring, until she got the pin.

I barely got to counter anything.

My head just wasn't in it tonight.

Actually, during the match, I ended up smacking my head against the floor.

So technically, it was.

Once we left the stage, and were backstage, Kelly started her inquiry.

"So you didn't tell him, huh?" she muttered as I plopped down on the floor of my locker room.

Of course Kelly followed me.

And of course, she brought her stuff here too.

I guess it wasn't just my dressing room now.

I took a frustrated swig from my water bottle and glared at her.

She didn't need to remind me.

I was already stressing out enough.

"No, I didn't."

She didn't look surprised.

"And why the hell are you in here anyways? The door has my name on it." I muttered, taking another swing of water.

I wasn't really upset about it.

I was just desperate for a subject change.

And she knew it.

Kelly smirked.

"Hey, you're not the only one who doesn't like stripping down in front of a swinging door." she laughed.

I did too.

"Plus, I kicked your ass out there. Consider this my reward." she winked.

I smirked, stretching a little before changing back into my street clothes.

We didn't have to wait long until the show was over.

I grabbed my bag, and left the dressing room, ready to go find Punk so we could leave.

I was not two steps out of the room when Punk found me.

"Well hey there hotshot."

His voice was from behind me, but before I could turn to see him, his hand connected with my ass.

It wasn't as hard as the last time, in my room at home, but it wasn't any love tap either.

I jumped at the suddenness.

I looked at his face, now next to me, he was smirking.

I narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

He just kept on smirking, pulling me under his arm.

"You got to be doing something right to get your own dressing room." Punk stated, kissing my hair.

He sounded proud of me.

"I'm just that damn good." I smirked, looking up at him.

He looked down and laughed.

"Yeah, because Kelly was the one who got her ass whooped tonight."

His words were laced in sarcasm.

I narrowed my eyes at him, taking my hand between us and slapping him in the stomach with it.

Like his slap to my ass earlier, this one wasn't quite a love tap.

He grunted, and smirked.

"But on a side note." he started, taking my hand that hit him and securing it around his back.

"Where do you want to hit up for date night?"

By now we were standing just inside the arena.

The door was only a few feet away.

Shit.

Date night.

I'd almost forgotten about that.

And as bad as I wanted to spend all night with him, it would be harder to pretend I wasn't hiding something.

I wasn't planning on hiding the fact that I'll be leaving for six months in three weeks forever, just long enough to figure out what to say.

I'd never been the most tactful person, and this news required some serious finesse.

I sighed, and stumbled over a few words before any of it made since.

"Punk, I hit my head kind of hard out there. Maybe we can do date night another night?"

I was barely able to make eye contact with him long enough to see he was bummed.

"You ok?"

I nodded at his furrowed brows.

Or that's what I assumed was on his face.

I couldn't look at him now.

I felt his arm over my shoulders tighten, pulling me against his chest.

"Alright. Well, lets go back to the hotel. Get some room service. Maybe watch a movie."

I smiled at his words.

He was such a sweetheart.

It made me laugh.

Sweetheart wasn't a term everyone used to describe him.

Usually, those terms were ones not PG rated.

I kissed his chest through his sweatshirt.

"Ok." I muttered.

We walked out of the backdoor to our awaiting taxi.

I knew I'd have to tell him the truth about this morning eventually.

And until I did, he's know something was wrong.

And I couldn't keep blaming Randy for long.

I only had three weeks until WrestleMania.

And the clock was ticking fast.


	6. Worst Case Scenario

The last three days were painful.

Emotionally mostly.

But with all the ass whooping I'd been handed the last three nights, some of it was physical too.

It was Friday, just two hours before Smackdown.

Punk had the night off, and I got him a couple of new comic books.

He was surprised by my random gift giving gesture.

And I was too.

Since when did I have to butter him up for bad news?

And on top of all that, the constant angst of how to tell him my big bad secret; we'd barely touched since Tuesday.

Yeah, only three days.

Big whup.

Well, it was.

I was used to getting it daily.

And nightly.

And ever so rightly.

Now, I'd barely kissed him.

And why?

Because every time I get the thought to have my way with him, I feel dirty.

And not the good kind of dirty either.

Like I'm taking advantage of him.

But tonight, I'd have a reprieve from feeling like a total ass.

At least for a little while.

That was the other reason I'd gotten him new comic books.

It'd keep him occupied long enough for me to go to work, and keep him here.

I had about thirty minutes before I had to leave, plus I still had to finish my shower.

I'd been prolonging being alone with him all day.

I'd go out for extra long runs.

Stay later at the gym.

Take longer showers.

Once, I'd even come into the bathroom and pretended to use the toilet.

Just to stop feeling like such a bag.

I sighed.

Yesterday, I swore to myself I'd tell him by Saturday, or I'd have Kelly do it for me.

And I really didn't want that to happen.

That'd cause more harm then good, but it would have to be done.

I turned off the steaming water, and stepped from the shower.

A few minutes later, I had a terrycloth robe tied loosely around my waist; drying my hair.

"Babe. You got a text."

I heard Punk call from the other room.

"Yeah. It's probably from Kelly. What does it say?" I groaned, calling back to him through the closed door.

"That she expects you ready to go in thirty." he paused.

"Why so early?"

I chuckled at his disappointed tone.

"Because she knows it's going to take more then half an hour for me to get ready."

I barely heard my phone go off again in the other room.

But this time there was no Punk telling me of the text.

I finished with my hair, and stepped out of the steaming bathroom, into the cooler bedroom.

I slipped on some underwear and a bra.

A random shirt was next, it ending up being an old plain blue one with a pocket on the breast.

It was weird for him to be silent for so long.

When I turned to him, my brows furrowed.

He stared down at my phone, his own brows furrowed, seeming confused.

"You ok?" I asked, trying to get a better look at his face.

I was still across the room, but I could tell something was wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head.

When he looked up, there was a different look on his face.

On top of confusion, there was a spiking fury.

Oh fuck.

"What's wrong?"

He cracked a grin.

Not a normal one either.

A menacing one.

One that scared me.

I stared at him, wide eyed.

"Kelly sent another text. Something about you and a six month vacation in Florida."

He tried to hide the accusing tone.

But I'd heard it.

I swallowed hard.

"Any idea what she's talking about?"

I nodded my head after a moment.

I couldn't quite find my voice.

"Care to enlighten me?"

He didn't try at all to hide anything in his tone this time.

Accusation, or frustration.

"Vince and Hunter asked if I'd go work for TNA for a few months."

Those barely a whisper, Punk heard every syllable.

Color started to flush his face, nostrils flaring, jaw tensing.

Oh fuck.

He stood quickly, his shoulders and fists tight.

"You did what?" he growled between his teeth.

He was trying to reign in his temper.

But he wasn't going to be able to.

I was sure of it.

This was it.

The shit storm was upon me.

And I wasn't close to ready for it.

"Vince and Hunter asked if I'd go work for TNA for a few months." I repeated.

Still just a whisper.

Still scared shitless.

By the tightening of his jaw even further, I guessed the second time wasn't any better.

"Why?"

Again, a growl through his teeth.

I took a breath.

"They want me to go win the championship, and walk out."

"And you agreed?"

He radiated tension now.

It seeping out of every pore of his body.

He glared down at me, waiting for my answer.

Waiting to strike.

I nodded tentatively.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he yelled, furious.

Beyond that actually.

In all the years I'd known him, he'd never raised his voice so high at me.

"Do you even know why they asked you to do that?"

Other then the fact they want a new championship, no.

I had no idea.

I shook my head.

It seemed to only get him more angry.

He raked his hand through his hair again.

Not impressed one bit.

"Is this what's been bothering you the past couple days?"

I gulped again.

Fuck.

I nodded.

Somehow, I'd pissed him off more.

"Great, you've been fucking lying to me all this time. When where you planning on telling me?" he paused.

"Were you planning on telling me at all?"

"I was! I just didn't know how." I mumbled.

He laughed, it nothing close to his usual sexy chuckle.

"You're doing a stand up job now!"

The phrase was laced in sarcasm.

"I'm trying! Kelly didn't help very much."

I tried to stand up for myself, but at the mention of Kelly things got worse.

"Fucking Kelly knows? Who else knows?" he yelled at me the questions.

I shook my head.

"Just Kelly." he sighed.

That seemed to be good news.

"I thought maybe she'd be able to help." I muttered.

He let out a breath, looking back at me.

Furious again.

I took a step back, his look stilling my breath.

"I'm not dating Kelly, Eli. I'm dating you. This is shit we need to talk about before you agree to it! Fuck!" he cussed, throwing his hands down to his sides.

"I didn't want you to get mad."

He laughed again, that same chilling sound.

"I just thought-"

I glanced down, bringing my hand to my neck absentmindedly as stumbled around for words.

"You thought what? That I'd magically be ok with this?" he yelled again.

"Not in a million years would I be ok with this! Why the hell can't you ever think things through!"

"I didn't think. I just answered."

He scoffed sarcastically.

"You never do." he said under his breath before continuing to yell at me.

I couldn't fathom why I was still standing there, half naked.

But my body wouldn't move.

In fact, I was lucky I could still speak.

"I'm not going to let you walk away from me."

He'd quieted down a little bit, but he was still mad.

"I'm not walking away."

I tried to sound soothing and convincing at the same time.

I'd known I failed when his brows furrowed deeper and his nostrils flared.

"You're leaving for six months, Eli!" he yelled.

As he waved his hands between us, I could see them slightly shaking.

That's how mad he was.

He stuffed both hands into his hair, and let out an angry huff; grabbing his jacket.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

I tried to keep from sounding like a defeated little girl, but failed at that too.

He didn't look at me when he opened the door, but as he left he spoke.

"I don't know. But don't be surprised if I'm not here when you come back."

I heart sank as the door slammed.

I'd expected a whole rush of emotions to come over me.

But nothing happened.

I just stood there.

Struck stupid.

Not having the brain capacity to work through what the hell just happened.

I just leaned against the wall I'd backed up against, not knowing what to think.

My phone ringing a few moments later, jolting me.

Quickly, I ran to the bed where Punk had left it.

I wished so badly that it was him.

But as I looked at the screen, I realized that Punk didn't have long blonde hair.

I sighed and answered.

"Hello?" I sounded melancholy, even to my own ears.

And I felt it.

There was a slight pause on the other end.

"Are you ok?" Kelly asked after a moment.

I sighed again.

"I don't know."

My voice was back to a whisper.

There was another pause.

"Yeah. Never mind. I'll come get you."

And at that she hug up.

Her coming to my room was the only initiative I had to put some pants on.

I'd just gotten them fastened, when her hurried know was on the door.

I let her in and turned to sit on the bed.

She followed, brows furrowed in concern.

I couldn't blame her, I was practically emotionless.

All I knew was that I was sad.

Nothing else made since.

"What happened?"

Her voice was soothing and sweet as she sat next to me, her hand over mine.

If only I could sound like that, then maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.

I took a breath, telling her the truth.

And as I recounted the last few minutes, I started to feel it.

That rush of emotions I'd been absent of earlier.

My eyes burned.

My nose clogged.

My breath caught in my throat.

I tried to shake it away, but when I closed my eyes it started.

The tears fell and so did my resolve.

I'd always tried so hard to not cry.

Especially in front of Kelly.

I wasn't sure what it was.

But I'd always felt like the one who had to be strong.

Every time someone would break her heart, she'd come to me.

I wasn't allowed to cry with her.

She needed me to be a big girl.

There was no hesitation on her part; her arms wrapping around my shoulders, hugging me.

I hugged her back, trying to reign it in enough to speak properly.

"Kel. I don't know what to do." I sobbed.

She just lulled me calm with a gentle 'sh'.

Petting my hair, soothing me further.

There was no one in this world, I had this kind of bond with.

This same connection with.

To be completely erratic and overcome by emotion, but calmed by one person's simple actions.

I could feel myself start to calm.

My breathing evened.

My eyes dried out.

I could inhale through my nose again.

I sniffled a few times, before pulling back.

"You just have to be patient." she answered, still soothing and sweet.

Loving, in fact.

She smiled, rubbing my arm gently.

I nodded, wiping my face with my hand.

"Come on. Working will help get your mind off of things."

She cracked a small smile, standing, and ushering me towards the door.


	7. Aftermath

**Hey all! So I absolutely love how everyone is identifying with Punk. Exactly where I wanted you. It's perfect. Also, the issue of updating. The new semester just started, and my work load is full. I'll try to update once/maybe twice a week. Emphasis on the 'try'. But thank you for all the support! Continue with reading, having fun, and the fantastic reviews! Hopefully, I'll be getting another chapter out within the next few days!**

**With oh so much love,**

**Skee. **

Kelly really had no idea how right she was.

Work did take my mind off of the fight with Punk.

So much in fact, that I actually had a little fun.

I had some time to kill before the show, almost two hours.

We'd gotten there extra early because of my breakdown.

But running pushed all that aside.

Running, stretching, push-ups, cartwheels, jump rope.

Anything to keep my mind off of it.

Once I stood in the gorilla, bouncing from foot to foot, hearing my music hit; I was in the zone.

Nothing could stop me.

And nothing did.

I blazed through my competition, conveniently it being Kaitlyn.

I had no problem pulling out all the stops to kick her ass again.

Especially after tonight.

But I dreaded going back to the hotel.

Once I left that arena, everything I'd escaped from earlier came back.

His words rung in my head.

And as I pushed the keycard in, I hoped like hell he was on the other side.

I didn't want to leave it at that.

I couldn't.

And I knew he couldn't either.

But as I pushed the door open, no one was there.

It looked like no one had been there since I left.

The comic books I'd just bought him still sat on the bedside table.

Even his headphones were still sticking out of his backpack.

I sighed and plopped down on the bed.

I pulled out my phone.

No new texts or calls.

I'd even checked Twitter.

He hadn't updated since yesterday.

Smackdown tonight had taken us to Oklahoma City.

I tried to keep busy.

I took another shower.

Organized my luggage.

And tried to sit through a movie.

But I couldn't take it.

This was such a big city, and Punk could be anywhere.

Anything could happen.

He'd been gone for so long, it started to worry me.

I tried calling him.

Of course there was no answer.

But it only rang twice.

So that meant he was ignoring me.

Despite the pain in my chest, the fact that he was ok enough to ignore a phone call calmed me down a little.

Just a little.

Maybe his phone had a glitch or something?

What if he wasn't ok?

I didn't try to call him again.

Either way he wouldn't answer.

And I doubted he'd check a voicemail.

So I opened up a blank text.

_I know you're still mad. But you've been gone for so long, I'm starting to worry. You don't need to text me or call me. Just tweet something. Anything. Just so I know you're ok. Please. I love you. _

I stared at the text before I pressed send.

Contemplating whether or not to keep that last bit.

Last time I sent him that after a fight, we didn't speak for two months.

I clicked the backspace, deleting it to the period after 'please'.

But I doubted that no 'I love you' this time would make any difference.

He was still pissed at me either way.

I locked my phone, and pressed the front button.

My screen lit up to a picture of him.

Of happier times.

A just rising Punk after a long night.

It was sight I rarely saw.

So I took a picture of it.

It making me smile every time.

I spent the next few minutes just staring at the picture.

Wanting him to be here so bad.

When my phone beeped.

It was the sound that Twitter made when someone on my watch list tweeted.

I didn't hesitate to look, the app opening almost immediately after I unlocked the phone.

I looked down at all of the tweets from the last few minutes, the one on the top from Punk.

It wasn't anything special, just a retweet of a fan and a snide comment.

I sighed.

So he was just ignoring me.

The thought made me feel strangely better.

Just the fact that he was ok was enough to make me realize just how exhausted I really was.

I wasted no time undressing to just my underwear, and slipping on the Rancid sweatshirt.

It was long enough on me to cover down my ass.

I crawled into bed, shut out the lights, and snuggled up close with the pillow.

Within seconds, I was out.

I'd woken gently from my dream, not remembering much of it.

I opened my eyes to total darkness, still.

I looked up to the clock, it reading just past 3AM.

I turned over, and spread my arm out.

Nothing was there.

I sat up and turned the bedside light on.

He wasn't on the chair, or in the bathroom.

Had he not come back yet?

He was that mad?

I checked my phone real quick, foolishly thinking he'd text me while I was asleep.

Of course he hadn't.

No missed calls.

And no more tweets either.

I put my phone back, and shut the light off, shoving my face back into the pillow.

I missed him.

I could live if he was mad at me, I just wanted him here.

Just to see him.

Feel his heat.

I really must have pissed him off.

Thinking of just how much I wanted him next to me right now, started to make my eyes burn.

Just a little though.

I'd cried enough earlier for the whole year.

I didn't think I could muster up anymore.

I sniffled a few times, trying not to let anymore fall today, when I heard the door open.

I let out the tiniest of sobs, relieved that Punk had come back.

And he was in one piece.

Quickly, I wiped the tears from my face, and sniffled as he plopped down on the bed next to me a few seconds later.

I turned my head in his direction, but I only saw his naked shoulders.

I sighed.

At least he was back.

Now I could sleep.


	8. Worst I've Been Cursed With

My last few weeks with the WWE didn't go exactly how I'd planned.

Or even close to it.

Punk and I had gone from madly in love, to not speaking in the span of a single conversation.

One sided at that.

And since then, I still hadn't been able to get a word in; argument sake or otherwise.

He'd barely spoken to me.

It was closing in on WrestleMania week, it being only a day away.

We weren't in Miami yet.

I got us a couple of train tickets.

I couldn't really tell how excited Punk was to be stuck on a ten hour train ride with me from Jacksonville.

But I could tell that the trip would be quiet.

I watched him as he zipped up his suitcase.

It ripped at my heart, it really did.

That I could infuriate him so much, that he'd stop talking to me for two weeks.

He might as well have disappeared.

He practically did.

Everyday, he was on his way out by the time I was up, with barely a word and be gone all day.

Finally, when he'd come back to the room, it was the same.

He'd spend the majority of his time in the bathroom.

And when he decided to come to bed, I was already half dead.

Plus, he'd rarely answer my texts.

And when he did, and I'd say a certain three words, he'd get all pissed off and not text me back all day.

It was frustrating.

And depressing.

I loved him so much, and I knew I was in the wrong.

But why the hell did he hold grudges so long?

And against me?

I'd caught myself a few times, day dreaming about how easy it would be to walk down to the bar and have a nice, cold glass of whiskey.

I doubted he would have noticed.

I'd thought about drinking more in the last two weeks then I had in a month.

But I could control the thoughts; it was the burning need that was pushing my will to the max.

Punk stood up from his bag, and glanced over at me.

I'd started rubbing my wrist absentmindedly.

Feeling the two new lines that I'd carved into my flesh.

He hadn't found them yet.

Nor had he tried.

The first few days, when he'd look at me, I could see in his eyes just how upset he was.

Now, that was all gone.

He wasn't mad anymore.

He was just cold.

I tried to apologize countless times, but he'd have nothing of it and leave the room.

He was lucky I was stricken silent on planes.

He'd have no where to run to then.

That was the reason I got us train tickets.

I could talk to him and he'd have no where to run.

And we'd be in public, so it couldn't get out of hand.

Just in case.

"Are you done yet?"

His monotone voice made me blink from my thoughts.

"Almost. I just have a few more things to pack." I stumbled around for some words at first, and looked down at my suitcase.

I wasn't too sure how the hell I was going to pack the last few things in there.

I'd gone shopping almost every day with Kelly.

Another way to get my head away from the Punk situation.

Instead of drowning in whiskey, I was drowning in price tags.

Either way, my wallet suffered.

Actually, it was kind of fun.

I'd developed a new appreciation for shopping after the last two weeks.

And Kelly loved it.

Now I could go shopping with her, without complaining.

He just blinked at my words.

Blinked those once so loving, but now cold, hazel eyes, grabbed his stuff, and left.

I didn't even get to finish asking where he was going before the door slammed behind him.

He'd been making that a habit too; slamming doors.

Sure, some hotels have heavy doors, but he was putting some unneeded extra force behind them.

And every time, it made me jump.

This time was no exception.

I sighed, looking back at the stuff I was yet to pack.

Actually, most of it wasn't even mine.

Or wasn't supposed to be.

I'd bought a bunch of stuff for Punk on these sprees with Kelly, then to realize later that he still wasn't talking to me.

I didn't have the heart to return the items, but I sure as hell didn't have the balls to give them to him either.

So I kept them.

And decided that, the day we finally sorted all this out, I'd give them to him.

But until then, I'd just keep them, hoping like hell that day was today.

After rethinking my packing strategy, I managed to fit almost everything in the bag.

It all but bursting at the seems.

A few minutes later, I was out the door.

There was plenty of time to spare until the train left, but I had a sinking suspicion that Punk just wanted to get it over and done with.

I sighed as I found him in the lobby a few minutes later.

He was sitting in an arm chair, hood up, hat down, headphones on, arms crossed over his chest.

He radiated 'do not disturb'.

He glanced up at me as I approached, as cold and dead as ever.

Before I could get too close, he got up, grabbed his stuff and headed outside.

It took only a few seconds for him to hail a cab.

Another few for the trunk to be open, and him hauling our luggage inside.

He took my suitcase from me, placing it in the trunk.

I spied, for only the briefest of moments, his surprise when it was considerably heavier then last time.

Thanks to the shopping.

He didn't look at me though, and that moment of normality, how ever short, brought a smile to my lips.

And just like that it was gone.

Punk walked past me, careful to not even graze me, and opened the backseat door.

At least he hadn't stopped being a gentleman.

He stood there, holding the door open for me.

Quickly, I scooted into the backseat, not wanting him to find anything else to be annoyed with.

But really, lifting luggage, opening doors, he'd do all that for his mother.

He told the driver where to go, but was silent after that.

The plus side to taxis versus rental cars, is that in the backseat, it's a lot more intimate.

He could sit against the door all he wanted.

I could still feel his body heat radiating off of him.

Fifteen minutes later we were in the lobby of the train station.

Unlike myself, Punk had an excellent sense of direction.

He weaved in and out of the mass of people on the platform.

I didn't bother rolling my suitcase.

It'd just get stuck in between the hundreds of feet.

It was heavy as shit.

But I sucked it up and carried it through the station.

I could finally see the train.

My arm was starting to get tired, holding on to the suitcase so tightly.

I passed it in front of me.

I tried to switch hands and keep up with Punk at the same time.

Something had to give.

My grip on the leather handle slipped and the bag hit the floor, then I did.

I had the presence of mind to put my hands out to catch me.

It only stinging a little as I caught myself on the hard concrete floor.

I made it back to my feet, and grabbed my bag again.

My heartbeat kicked up seeing Punk so far away.

I didn't want to loose him.

I had a small surge of adrenaline hit me.

Enough to make the weight of the bag almost disappear, and allow me to catch up with him enough to wrap a finger or two around his.

"Punk, wait up."

It'd taken a second for both of us to process the sheer electricity that zipped through our barely touching fingers.

It made me hold my breath.

And it made him freeze.

Not a moment later though, after I'd caught up, he pulled his hand away.

And away went that wonderful tingle that ran up my hand.

I sighed and said nothing else until we were seated on the train.

Without a word, Punk grabbed my bag again, stowing it in the over head rack along with his.

I scooted in to the window seat, with Punk sitting next to me.

Within minutes, the seats around us started to fill.

Good luck having a serious conversation now.

I sighed internally, pressing my forehead against the window.

Might as well sleep, because my initial plan was gone.

I could faintly feel the train start to move a few minutes later.

I was asleep right after.

I awoke a few hours later with an ache in my neck.

I'd be surprised if I hadn't seeing the position I was sleeping in; head flat against the window.

It was black out, the moon high in the sky.

If I had to guess, it was about 2AM.

Only an hour until Miami.

After rubbing my face and neck, I glanced over at Punk; half hoping he was asleep too.

It'd been so nice to see right then.

But yet, if he wasn't I could talk to him.

Most of the other passengers were asleep.

If not, we were drowned out by their blasting headphones.

I should have known better to think he'd be asleep.

The man rarely spelt in general.

I stretched out a little, noticing he was reading one of the comic books I'd bought him a few weeks ago.

Before all this happened.

I couldn't stop myself from opening my mouth.

"I didn't think you were going to read those." I mumbled.

He didn't look up from the book, but his reply was so detached, it stung enough to make up for it.

"Why waste a decent comic book because you fucked up?" he said without missing a beat.

I blinked, utterly shocked, and hurt by the words.

Salt in the wounds.

It wasn't the first time he'd used that tone to deliver the killing blow.

It'd prompted, more then once, thoughts that maybe he didn't want to be here anymore.

With me that is.

I'd been putting off saying anything, hoping that it was all in my head.

But the words just fell out of my mouth.

There wasn't much stopping it.

"Then, maybe, we shouldn't be together."

It was barely a whisper.

But in the hush of the car, it wasn't hard to hear.

That got him to put the book down and look at me.

Though it wasn't a look I'd ever want to receive again.

I watched his face turn colors, finally to red.

His brows furrowed in confusion, pain, and mostly fury.

There wasn't any more words exchanged in that moment.

Just his gaze burned through me.

The next second, he was rising.

His movement snapping my attention back to the rest of the world away from the little hell I'd been living in lately.

Punk grabbed his backpack, and without a second look hurried out of the car.

I sighed.

I really hated this.


	9. Absolution

**In honor of Punk's amazing win tonight at NOC. Here is a new, LONGER, chapter. **

**Rated M. Beware.**

**With love,**

**Skee. **

A few hours had passed since then. We'd arrived in Miami.

I'd found Punk outside the front doors for the station.

There wasn't a word spoken the rest of the night.

And now, he was sound asleep next to me in the hotel bed.

It was pushing 8AM.

He was going to wake soon, and I had a phone call to return.

I looked down at my phone, replaying the message left for me not too long ago.

"Miss Strong. We were very impressed with the DVDs you sent us last week and would love to set up a live try out. Also, we have received a faxed copy of your contract proposal from your lawyer, Mr. Wilkins. I couldn't find any problems with it. So we'd like to proceed. We'd like to set up a sit down to discuss your future with us."

The man's name was Bruce Prichard; the EVP of Talent relations for TNA.

Apparently he'd gotten the ok to higher me from the company president a few days ago.

They wanted me in today for that sit down.

I guessed it was working.

With my phone on loud, I wasn't too sure where I was when the message was left.

But I knew I had only a few hours before I'd have to fly out to Tennessee.

I looked down at Punk, who was rolling on to his stomach.

I sighed.

This meeting was bittersweet really.

It took me away from the torment of silence from Punk; and took me away from Punk, who I loved.

The while situation was bittersweet.

I'd be making great strides with my career in leaving, but I'd be taking huge steps backwards with my relationship.

It was horrible.

I turned, kneeling, facing the headboard.

I missed my old Punker.

I didn't try to stop the absentminded movement to touch his back.

The moment I did, he shivered.

I smoothed my hand over the skin a few times, missing the feel of it.

He groaned, peaking at me through his slitted lids.

I gave him a soft smile, hoping we'd stay like this for another moment longer.

And to my surprise, it did.

"Baby." I whispered, his lips pealed back into a grin at the name.

What the hell universe were we in right now?

Skin-on-skin contact?

Conversation?

Smiles?

Who was this man and where what did he do with Punk?

Frankly, I didn't really care.

I had my old boy back, if only for a second before I broke more bad news.

"I got to go." I mumbled, watching him carefully.

His brows furrowed, and his smile disappeared.

"Where?" he rasped.

It made me smile.

It'd been a long time since I'd heard that voice.

He flipped onto his back; my hand staying on his flesh.

It made a new home on his oh-so lovely stomach.

Oh god did I miss this place.

I let my fingers caress the area around them before I answered.

Surely the reminder of my huge mistake would snap him back to the real world.

"Nashville." I muttered.

Watching my fingers play over his skin.

I glanced up at him sheepishly, expecting the cold glare I'd gotten on the train.

But instead, I got dumbstruck and sleepy.

That could explain it.

The reason he was so... normal right now.

He'd only gotten a handful of hours for sleep.

And with the sleep schedule he'd been keeping lately, that surely wasn't enough.

"Impact called. They want a sit-down this afternoon."

He blinked his eyes free from sleep and looked at me.

Now that he was fully awake, I expected the usual.

Snap, distance, and ignore.

"When will you be back?"

I blinked in surprised and shrugged.

"They said something about a tryout. Plus I'd have to do a photo shoot and a bunch of paper work for bio's and shit. It'll be at least a couple of days."

And finally, here it was.

The emotionless pit that was Punk the last few weeks.

It was starting to sink in now.

I was really leaving.

He just blinked at me until I said something.

Anything.

The silence was killing me.

"Punk, I hate being like this."

Already the burn of tears started as I spoke.

"I know that I shouldn't have agreed to do this. Not right when we were so close to being normal again. I'm sorry, I really am."

I tried to take a deep breath; stave off the tears just a little longer.

I shoved my hands into my hair, gripping at it tightly.

"You have every right to be mad at me. But I wish you'd just talk to me."

There was only a few seconds before all hell broke loose on my tear ducts; it was total silence.

"I just can't stand not talking to you." I tried to whisper, but a sob caught in my throat.

My fingers pulling on the gripped hair helped force down the sob; the pain distracting me from the emotion.

It was actually kind of refreshing.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I didn't see Punk shift on the bed.

But I felt it.

And his hands around mine in another second.

"I know I've told you before. Stop that."

His voice was low, but the intensity was the same as his furious tone.

I couldn't stop the hick-up that came up my throat at his harsh tone.

The thought of making him more mad at me utterly defeated me.

Punk released my hands, making them flop back into my lap.

I didn't realize until then how much that little contact meant.

How much hope it built inside of me.

But before I could lay on an even thicker layer of self loathing, I felt it.

The ever slightest touch of Punk's fingers brushing against my shoulder.

I sucked in a hard breath, my stomach clenching.

Then again.

The tiniest of brushes from his other hand against my face; his fingers pushing the hair in my face back behind my ear.

His hand fell down to my side, then down to my hip.

I couldn't stop myself.

I had to reach out and wrap my arms around his neck.

I had to.

I'd wanted to for days.

I dug my fingers into the hair at the back of his head; inhaled his scent like it was the first breath I'd in weeks.

When he tightened his grip around me a second later; pulling me closer towards him, my throat released a new sob.

For the first time in weeks I was relieved.

Happy even.

I'd missed him so much.

I buried my face in his neck, the feel of his skin not something I ever wanted to forget again.

My lips brushed up against him, feeling so nice.

I did it again, this time letting my tongue trace around the same spot.

I felt Punk stiffen against me.

"Eli, don't." his voice was different.

Raw.

Heated.

Desperate.

I didn't listen, and let my teeth scrape against his skin.

There was a low rumble in the back of his throat, I could feel it as I heard his breathing quicken.

I trailed one hand over his shoulder, and down his bare chest.

I rested over his heart for a moment, it pounding against my hand.

He wanted this just as bad as I did.

I reluctantly pulled my hand from him, and pulled down the zipper of the sweatshirt I'd slept in.

When I'd finished, I used that hand to push it open, over my shoulder.

I was desperate too.

My hand went back to his shoulder, and followed his arm down to his hand at my hip.

"Touch me." I whispered, pleading to him.

I didn't just want him to.

I needed him to.

I needed to know we were ok.

And this was the only way I'd truly know.

I let out a shaky breath, thinking, maybe this wasn't going to happen.

When I felt his grip tighten around my thighs, pulling me on to his lap.

Even between our underwear, I could feel him hard against me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and took in a ragged breath; my hand returning to his chest at the sensation.

I could barely breath, my face resting against his.

I kissed his scruff covered cheek, trailing down his jaw.

I could barely feel his hand come around my thigh, to my stomach.

I was too focused on trying to kiss him for the first time in weeks.

I brushed my nose against his, my hands holding his face close to mine.

Our lips brushed against each other a few times, I was still working up the nerve to kiss him.

Faintly, I felt his fingers trail their way up my abdomen, skimming over my breasts.

I gasped, not needing any more convincing.

I pressed my lips against his, not hesitating to slip my tongue along his lips, into his mouth.

That's when he lost it.

All that brooding self control he'd been holding on to for days.

It was all gone.

And only pure, starved, Punk remained.

His hand tightened in my hair, pulling me closer, and opening his mouth wider.

His need echoing mine.

The scruff on his face tickled the edges of my mouth.

His other hand that had made it's way up my chest, went back down, wasting no time at all.

His fingers pressed against me through my underwear; my whole body jumping at the sensation, grinding against him.

There was no prelude for what happened next.

Punk pulled aside my underwear.

There was only a second's pause, which I assumed was him bypassing his boxers, then he was pressed fully inside of me.

I tore my lips from his.

The ability to breathe was completely gone now.

I fought for the small gasps I got every few seconds.

I had been reluctantly prepared to be at odds with him for the next six months, or longer.

But those thoughts were far from me now.

All I could focus on was his hands gripping my shoulders, pulling me down on to him.

My hands went back to his hair, it the only place I had to hold on to.

And I'd need to.

Already, I was feeling the mind and body numbing climax build.

It was hard to control the volume of my voice as I groaned and moaned.

After the first few moments, I stopped trying.

Punk was the same.

Usually a quiet lover, his lips were letting out all sorts of profanities now with his filter gone.

I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors could hear.

But I really didn't care.

And I couldn't do anything to stop it.

I couldn't even move.

The bridge of my nose pressed against his neck.

I could hear every word from his lips, and every grunt from his throat.

And there I was, stuck, slumped against him; bones like jelly, when it started.

The final ascent to totally body meltdown.

First, it started in my stomach; muscles clenching.

I tightened my grip on his hair, holding on for dear life.

Suddenly, it ripped through me; the build skipping over my back, arms and legs.

Every muscle in my body clenched, squeezing against my bones.

I felt they could crumble at any second.

Even my jaw was clamped shut.

My cry of sweet, agonizing, pleasure muffled by teeth and flesh.

In mere seconds I'd been reduced to a writing puddle of Eli.

And Punk was no where near being finished with me yet, that much was certain.

While I was struggling to control my frenzied cry; Punk didn't hold back.

Didn't miss a beat either; still pulling me down to meet his hip's thrusts.

I hadn't really noticed we'd toppled over until I was flat on my back, arms held wide apart.

He'd slowed down some, pinning my elbows down and kissing my chest.

He smirked against my skin; my body shaking and twitching for the next few minutes.

I flexed my hands, trying to find his own flesh.

I wanted so badly to touch him.

The thought of his velvet covered skin against the pads of my fingers set off a new need inside of me.

I pulled as hard as I could, putting the weight of my whole body into freeing myself, but his grip held fast.

I felt his lips rumble against my skin a moment later; it not clicking until after the hard slam of his hips that it was punishment.

He always wanted me to lay there and take it.

But I just couldn't do it.

And that got me a knock to the head.

His slam was just hard enough to push me up into the stupid headboard, I was only an inch from it in the first place.

I let out a whimper after the bang.

Punk's head popped up, letting me look at his face.

Concern flashed for a moment, but at my pout, his hunger returned.

He leaned up, kissing my forehead all along my hairline.

This was my Punk.

Sweet, sexy, dangerous.

And I never wanted him to leave again.


	10. A Rose By Any Other Name

I let him have his way with me for almost an hour.

And finally, we were cuddled together; his head resting on my sternum.

I'd caught my breath fully, and was petting his hair.

I pulled lightly at the locks, examining the length.

They were shorter.

"Did you get a hair cut?"

I heard him chuckle, turning his face towards me.

"You're just noticing now?" he asked, sarcastically.

Oh yes.

Normality.

I scoffed.

"Yeah, where have you been the last two weeks?" I smirked at him, but my lighthearted tone didn't seem to distract him from my words.

He sighed and kissed my collar bone lightly.

"Yeah, about that." he muttered, still looking down at my shoulder.

I took his chin in my hand, and pulled his face up so I could see him.

"Don't worry about it." he sighed when I released him.

"How can you always do that?" he sounded astonished as he looked up at me.

I cocked a brow at him.

"Do what?" I asked, totally confused.

"Not blame me when I fuck up."

I cocked my head at his words.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and sat up to his elbows.

"Well, every time I made a mistake, you always just brush it under the rug like nothing happened."

"When have you ever fucked up?" he scoffed.

"The day I thought ignoring you was a good idea, for starters! And when you were sent back to Smackdown with Randy. Then when I didn't try and look for you in Texas. And when you came back, I didn't immediately see you."

he paused, his face darkening.

"And when I couldn't keep you safe for one night."

His voice was low as he referred back to my trip from Mexico.

"First off." I started, grasping his attention.

"I deserved it. Second, I'd be worried too if my girlfriend was forced to work closely with her ex with out me around. Third, I didn't want to be found. The next one; I could have found you."

I sighed at the last one.

Why was he still hung up on this?

"Lastly, I hurt myself. You did all you could." he just shook his head at my words.

"That's what I mean. I can do no wrong in your eyes. Why?" I looked at him for a few seconds, brows furrowed, head cocked to the side, thinking.

Thinking of where this was coming from, and why he was so oblivious to the reason.

"Because I love you." I stated simply, unable to resist the tiny smirk that spread across my lips.

Punk stared at me for a few more seconds.

Baffled by what I'd just said.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed.

He'd gone from guarded and confused, to poised to strike.

He shifted between my legs, kissing my neck softly.

"I will never get tired of hearing that. Never." he muttered against my skin.

I giggled, reaching to place my hands on his back.

Before I could move them far, he had my wrists trapped in his hands.

His weight shifted on top of me, his hand applying more pressure then usual on my wrist.

I winced at the sharp pain that shot up my arm.

Instantly, everything stopped.

Punk's hands were off of me, his mouth stopped it's trek on my throat, and his gorgeous hazel eyes were filled with worry.

"What's wrong?" he asked as I pulled my wrist towards me.

I shifted onto my side, keeping it hidden.

"It's nothing." I whispered cradling my hand and wrist against my chest.

I was right, nothing had happened.

In that instant.

That happened earlier that morning.

I didn't really know what came over me, but as I slid that razor blade through my skin, I pushed on it.

It going harder, and deeper then usual.

Not deep enough to require stitches, again, or even that much blood loss.

But in the few hours that had passed, it hadn't started to scab over yet.

Punk's weight on my tender wound sent a small jolt though me.

His brows were still furrowed, if not deeper now at my blatant lie.

It was one of those lies that I knew he wouldn't believe, but I wish he would.

Punk was far from giving up.

He grabbed my hand, rougher then he usually would, and pulled down the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

I closed my eyes tight, unable to watch as his expression changed.

His heart was sinking. I could feel it.

I knew, the moment I opened my eyes I was going to get that same, sad, puppy dog look he gave me in the hospital.

I couldn't bare seeing him so defeated.

Not again.

So I didn't move.

My eyes stayed shut.

My body remained frozen.

His hand was still grasping my wrist.

It was so silent for the next few moments, that I thought we'd return to our verbal standstill from the past few weeks.

But I was prepared to sit there all day with my eyes closed.

The painful silence passed when his lips met my wrist.

The shock of it snapping my eyes open; looking at him.

Dammit.

I didn't want to see the pitiful look on his face.

Just another fuck up for me to add to the list, I guessed.

His thumb ran over the few new scabs, and the scarring lines underneath.

But his lips had touched the fresh slice in my flesh.

I blinked at him a few times, trying to fathom why he'd do that.

"What was that for?" I whispered, words hard for me to come by.

"Sorry." his whispered back; probably the lowest I'd ever heard him.

I furrowed my brows further.

"I know you wont believe me. But this is my fault."

I groaned.

No.

No it wasn't.

This was my psyche's fault.

He stopped me before I could convince him of that.

"I know. You've told me before. It's because you wanted to drink. But Eli, you're depressed too. I've watched you everyday the last few weeks, struggling to keep it all in. What you said to me last night made me wonder how bad you were really feeling it."

His eyes stayed from mine.

Along with being upset, he was embarrassed.

He wasn't usually much of a talker, at least about his emotions he wasn't.

"And earlier, when you said you had to go, it really dawned on me that you were leaving." he paused again; letting me go, and sitting back, cross-legged.

His hands came together in his lap; thumbs pushing against each other.

"I didn't want you to go without you knowing that I love you, no matter what."

His eyes were still adverted.

But I could see the pink sheen on his cheeks.

I sat up.

I had no idea what to think.

I actually kind of forgotten that he felt that way.

I reached my hand up, my index and middle fingers tracing the slightly jagged bridge of his nose.

I brushed over the scar from the broken nose he'd suffered years ago.

My action prompted him to look up at me tentatively.

It was rare to see him like this.

Almost nervous.

I really had no idea where I was going with this.

I just needed to do something.

The seriousness of the moment was thick enough to cut with a knife.

It was suffocating.

My fingertips slid to the tip of his nose, and squeezed lightly.

"Honk." I muttered, feeling utterly juvenile afterward.

Punk just gave me a wide eyed look.

And suddenly, he laughed.

Oh god.

It sent shivers down my neck.

I cracked a weary smile, not too sure if he was laughing at me or with me.

"Come on." Punk said once he'd gotten control over his giggles.

I furrowed my brows at him when he started to stand up from the bed.

He held his hand out to me.

"Where are we going?" I asked, taking his hand anyways.

He pulled me against his chest, closing me in his arms.

"You said you only have a few hours until you have to leave, might as well make the most of it."

I smirked back at him, pull him by the hips back to bed.

He chuckled again.

"As much as I'd love to," he paused, brushing the strewn hair out of my face.

He kept his hand on my head as he continued.

"You still owe me a date."


	11. Go On, Watch Her Spread Her Wings

**Hey all! Sorry for all the delays I got caught up working on so many other things! But I'm trying to keep it all balanced and every one happy! So, you all know the drill. Read. Review. Have fun.**

**With love,**

**Skee. **

"I don't like that deal..." I muttered against his chest.

We were standing in the terminal of the Miami airport, saying goodbye.

It was time, my flight left in a few minutes, and my meeting was in two hours.

I'd had an amazing morning with Punk.

I didn't want it to end.

I tightened my arms around his body, feeling him do the same to me.

"Neither do I. But we have to." he whispered against my hair.

Before we left the hotel earlier, we'd decided that we weren't going to talk about the next six months.

At least not today. But as we were strolling along the beach near the hotel, we ended up talking about it.

"But I don't want this to be it." My voice was raw.

We sat on the beach a few hours ago, under the shade of a palm tree.

The sun was hot for it being barely 10 AM, and the beach hadn't been too crowded.

"I'm going to miss you." Punk whispered, his chin in his hand, looking at me.

I frowned.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about that right now..." I muttered, scooping up some sand and watching it fall through my fingers.

He sighed.

"I know. But it's kind of hard."

He was silent for a moment.

"I don't want to have to say goodbye twice."

His words snapped my head up from the sand.

Eyes wide, brows furrowed, heart aching.

"What?"

The word was barely a whisper coming from my lips.

By the look on Punk's face, that wasn't exactly what he meant.

Or at least that's what I hoped.

"No! That didn't come out right. Let me try it again."

He grabbed my hand tightly, pausing for a moment.

"I meant, I don't want to have you one day, and the next morning your off for good."

I was confused.

He groaned.

"What I mean is, that you don't know when you'll be done. And if you come back on, Saturday, and leave Sunday, I won't be able to let you go."

"But I should be back before Saturday."

My words coming out almost like a plea.

"But what if you're not." he sighed.

"I know you don't want to talk about this, I don't either." he paused.

This was hard for him to say. It was hard to hear too.

"Let's make a deal." he muttered, trying to sound normal again.

But I could hear he was torn.

He didn't want me to go, I knew that.

But he didn't want me to hate him for making me stay.

Oh boy did I want to stay.

But it was too late now.

Things were already too far for me to stop.

"If you're not back by Friday," he whispered, pausing.

He cleared his throat, staving off the emotions.

I rubbed my thumb on his hand that still gripped mine tightly.

"Then, stay there."

I thought that it hurt then, but now it was time to say goodbye.

And it stung so much more.

The voice over the intercom sounded; my flight was boarding.

I pulled back to an arms length, attempting to start leaving.

Punk held fast on my shoulders, not wanting me any further then that.

His forehead came down to meet mine, I closed my eyes trying to ingrain everything about him into my mind.

This could very well be the last time I see him for a long time.

I inhaled through my nose, smelling his usual musk; men's Speedstick and Punk.

My hands came to his face, the prickle of his now full beard against my palms.

My thumbs smoothed over his bottom lip, gently shifting his lip ring.

I opened my eye to his closed ones.

I kissed his cheek; his eyes reluctantly opening.

"It's time." I muttered, starting to take a step away.

Punk's brows furrowed, keeping me close.

After a second, he nodded, leaning down at touching my lips with his.

His kiss was sweet; traces of his taste lingered on my lips when he pulled back.

"Be safe."

The words were hushed, followed up by another quick kiss.

"I love you."

My heart sank.

God, I hated leaving him.

At least last time we could still see each other, now we were going to be days apart at any given time.

I nodded, whispering the words back to him.

Our last kiss lasted longer, and lingered with me to the plane.

He'd gone as far as he could without a ticket.

Which, really, wasn't very far.

I leaned down and grabbed my carry-on bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

"Bye."

And like that, I was gone.

Trying to savor being near him for a little longer, but needing to leave before I broke down, I looked back through the glass wall that separated us now.

He stood there, Cubs hat down over his face, camo cargo shorts, and Ramones t-shirt.

I so wanted to run back to him and never look back.

His hand came to his lips, sending me a kiss.

I did the same; kissed my hand, directing it towards him.

And that was it.

I was on the plane.

I sat stiff for the next hour and a half.


	12. Said the Serpent, Of the Tree

**Hey all! Sorry again for the few updates. Things are starting to cool down again in school, so I'll be back at the keys and uploading shit in now time! But until then, have fun and review! **

**With love,**

**Skee.**

I'd arrived at the TNA headquarters only two minutes late.

I wasn't too worried, they were desperate for me.

I was waiting in the office of the man who called me earlier, Bruce Prichard, EVP of Talent.

I sat there, contemplating his name.

I couldn't help feel it sounded familiar.

But it wasn't until he walked in that I realized who he was.

"Brother Love?"

The name escaped my mouth before I could even process it myself.

Bruce chuckled, extending his hand to me.

I took it, still a dumbfounded look on my face.

"That was me a long time ago." he smirked.

Ok.

So I wasn't going crazy.

"But it's good to finally see you in person Miss. Strong."

He released my hand, and went to sit behind his desk.

"Eli is fine." I muttered, I'd never been one for formalities.

"Ok, Eli, have a seat and we can discuss your future here." I sat and he continued.

"We're really excited to have you aboard. But, you were doing so well in the WWE, why come here?"

I paused.

That was the one question I knew I was going to get asked eventually.

And I'd been working on an answer for the last month.

"I just needed a change of pace." I shrugged it off.

Yeah.

It took me a month to think of that.

Bruce nodded, probably relating to the stress of working to Vince.

Sure, I loved the company, I loved what I did.

But management made things harder then they needed to be.

He opened his mouth to say something, when his phone beeped.

He picked it up, but didn't speak.

When he hung up, he looked at me.

"That was our president. She would like to meet you." he smirked.

I blinked.

She?

The boss was a woman?

That's new.

And she wanted to meet me?

Why?

I didn't have any intention of getting friendly with anyone here, let alone the boss.

The only reason I got to speak to Vince sometimes was because of Pops and his all grasping reach.

Bruce ushered me out of his office and up to the top floor to the President's office.

The door read "Dixie Carter".

It opened, revealing a woman, light brown hair, blue eyes, and the same height as myself.

"You must be Miss. Strong. Please, come in." she smiled, ushering me through the door.

As I stepped through, I instantly recognized the huge man standing by her desk.

Everyone did.

It was Hulk Hogan.

I blinked at him.

I wasn't prepared to deal with him today.

And I certainly wasn't dressed for meeting the President of the company; in short shorts, a t-shirt, and Punk's Rancid sweatshirt.

When I walked in, I got some strange looks.

Dixie sat behind her desk, leaving me standing in front of it.

"Please, sit."

She motioned to the empty chair next to me.

I sat, and waited for the reason I was in here.

"So, Miss. Strong. You've caused quite the stir around here."

I cocked a brow at her words.

"You were quite the up and coming star in the WWE, what happened?" she asked, something more then just curiosity in her eyes.

"I just needed a change of pace." I uttered my cover again.

She nodded, but I had a feeling that she wasn't done there.

"You know Hulk Hogan, don't you? He's the general manager of Impact."

I nodded, glancing at the huge man sitting next to me.

Oh yeah I knew him.

"I watched that DVD you sent in. I saw some familiar stuff in there. Who trained you?" Hulk spoke, his tough guy rasp deeper then it sounds on TV.

"The Undertaker, Mark Callaway." I answered.

His brows popped up.

Per usual.

"That's why I recognized you as Brother Love earlier, Bruce."

He nodded, it all clicking for him now.

Dixie continued to ask me questions.

It was annoying.

She'd know all the answers if she actually did her research on me.

Suddenly, there was a ringing.

Bruce started digging in his coat pocket for his cell phone.

Once he excused himself to take it, the demeanor of the meeting changed.

"Your timing is a bit perfect, don't you think Eli?" She asked, drawling out my name; her voice laced with skepticism.

I glanced at Hulk, he too had an air of doubt around him.

"What do you mean?" I asked, playing dumb.

I watched Dixie as she cracked a grin.

"Well, your contract with the WWE is just now expiring, only months after Vince tried to buy us out."

I blinked.

Huh.

That explains why he was so adamant on doing this.

"And we all know Vince is a sore loser."

"Really? That's weird."

I tried to sound convincing.

But I couldn't even convince myself that it was a mere coincidence.

The two of them narrowed their eyes.

Oh yeah, they were on to me.

Before anything else could be said, Bruce popped back in.

"Sorry Dixie. But I got to take Eli to a photo shoot. We're late."

I stood, extending my hand to Dixie across the desk.

She took it and I spoke.

"I'm really excited to be working here. Thank you for the opportunity." I said, my voice laced in sarcasm; it sickly sweet.

I had to repress a grin when I turned to Hulk and shook his hand.

They both glared at me.

I turned my back and left with the unfazed, and unknowing to the tension of the President's office, VEP.

The door closed behind us, and Bruce and I walked down the hall.


	13. Make You Feel Wanted

**Ok. So I can't keep blaming the crazy semester. I've also had the worlds most retarded writers block. But I'm working on getting through it. Trust me, this story has been on the forefront of my mind for the past year! And I'm not stopping until it's done! But yes, please, keep reviewing so I know my attempts at soothing my writers block is working for all yall. I'll also try and keep up with posting at least once a week. No promises though...**

**Thanks for all your patience.**

**With much love,**

**Skee.**

Three days.

Three whole days of ass kissing and shit smelling.

And frankly, I was glad to be rid of it.

At least for a couple more days.

The whole time, I had to be the nice, polite, sweet, Eli.

The fake Eli, more like it.

It was almost nice being on the plane back to Miami now.

I got to frown.

A lot.

But of course, by the time we landed, I was ready to get the hell out of there.

And back into the sweet arms of my Punker.

It was all I was thinking about during all of the interviews, and photo shoots.

I was mid text, when Kelly's face popped up on my screen.

I'd done a decent job dodging her calls the last couple of days.

I didn't want to go through the sappy, best friend, goodbye.

Not when I had a just as difficult one with Punk later on.

I sighed and answered to a lot of bitching and moaning.

I groaned.

"Hey Kel. Guess what? I'm back in Miami."

That got her to shut up.

Thank God.

"When?" she half screamed.

"Like twenty seconds ago. I'm still in the airport. I was about to text Punk when you called."

"Good! Wait there for me! And whatever you do, don't tell Punk you're back."

I made a face of disgust.

If only she could see it.

"Why would I do that?"

I heard Kelly scoff on the other end.

"Because I'm your best friend. And for the next few days you're going to be halfway up Punk's ass. I want some Eli time too."

I sighed.

True.

I knew I'd need some Kelly time before I left too.

Might as well have the afternoon.

She squealed when I gave in.

"Oh! Wait right there, I'll be there in a second to pick you up!" she sounded way to giddy for her own good.

A moment later we hung up.

I just stared at the message screen, it the boarder-line one thousand text Punk and I had exchanged in the last few days.

I put in my headphones and blasted the punk rock; walking outside, sitting on a bench.

Barely twenty minutes later, a deep red, BMW rolled up.

Top down.

Blond in the driver's seat.

Once she spotted me, she stuck her hand up and waved.

I sighed.

I should of known.

It wouldn't be Kelly if it wasn't top of the line.

I waved back and went to throw my stuff in the back seat.

"Um. No. Trunk."

She eyed me from behind the wide rimmed sunglasses of hers.

I rolled my eyes and went to the trunk, it already popped, and tossed my stuff in.

In another second, I was burning my ass on the black leather.

The sun was hot today.

I pulled my Blues Bros. glasses from my tanktop strap and onto my face.

After a quick glance, only then did Kelly take off towards the nearest, probably most expensive, shopping mall around.

"I hope you have your credit card ready." she said taking off down the first straight away she could get the car onto.

I smirked, pulling it out of my pocket.

"Good good."

Fifteen minutes later we were standing outside of one of the greatest shoe and accessory stores on the planet.

Christian Louboutin.

"Kelly. What use is there for me to go in there?" I asked, shifting from foot to foot.

She sighed.

"Eli. It's a shoe store. And you need some new shoes." she muttered, grabbing my hand and pulling me in.

"But I already have shoes."

I knew I'd said something wrong when she turned around and glared at me.

Obviously, my Nike's where not the right shoes.

I sighed, giving in to her.

The two of us spent hours shopping.

And it was in that moment that I realized; I hate shopping.

Why did I even think it was fun in the first place?

When we finally made it back to her car, it was a few hours later and I was a few hundred dollars poorer.

"Finally," I started, plopping my ass on the leather seat after throwing my stuff in the backseat.

There wasn't enough room in the trunk this time.

I pulled out my phone, with the full intention on texting my love.

"Oh no you don't." Kelly muttered snatching my phone mid message.

I gaped at her, utterly offended.

"We can't end best friend time without a meal. We never have."

Very true.

Or at the very least a snack of some sorts.

I sighed.

"Alright, but can we at least go to the hotel?" I asked, hoping she didn't sense my reason behind wanting to go there.

I wanted to see Punk.

End of story.

She turned to look at me, bright eyes dark behind those shades.

Of course she got it.

But she didn't fight me on it either.

Twenty minutes later, minus stupid traffic, we were pulling into the valet service of the hotel.

I didn't bother trying to take my stuff out.

I knew Kelly wouldn't allow that one.

She hurried me into the hotel's restaurant, and I was glad she did.

I could have sworn, I'd caught a glimpse of Randy walking out of the elevators.

And that would have certainly ruined my mood.

I shook that off, for now, and proceeded to be dragged by Kelly to a table.

She sat me in the seat facing the wall, not allowing me to look out the doors.

Smart cookie.

It was just over a hour after we finished our shrimp scampi and veil parmigiana, Kelly started talking.

"So who am I going to go out with all the time when you're gone?"

I sighed.

I hated this conversation, with anyone.

I really didn't want to have it.

"You were always the one with all the friends Kelly. It shouldn't be a problem finding some one to eat with..." I muttered, pushing around the remnants of food on my plate.

I couldn't grasp why everyone was making a huge deal out of this.

It was only six months.

Not six years.

"Yeah, you're right. It's more like what are you going to do with out me?" she smiled, I laughed.

"Have fun for once?" I teased.

She pretended she didn't think it was funny, but she did.

After a couple more minutes of light banter and teasing, Kelly persisted with the heavy.

"Are you sure you're ready for this? You've had a rough year."

Yeah, I had.

That was exactly why I was doing this.

It was a chance to get me going on the right track again.

Keep me focused.

Away from triggers.

I nodded, and was about to open my mouth when Kelly's expression stopped me.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking at her wide-eyed, deer in a headlights look.

I turned to look behind me, the focus of her stare, and got slapped.

"What the fuck was that for!" I grumbled.

It wasn't very hard; like a pat on the nose for a dog.

Did I just think of myself as Kelly's dog?

"Don't look!" she whispered, turning back to me, deadly serious.

It made me nervous.

"When you say don't look, it makes me want to look more! Why can't I look?"

Her eyes flashed from me and whatever was behind me, and back to me.

"You have to promise not to freak out."

I cocked a brow.

"Why would I freak out?" I asked, starting to turn my head back again.

And again, I was slapped.

"That is my face woman!"

But she brushed right past it like it never happened.

"Because you get insanely jealous and territorial."

I furrowed my brows.

Who the hell was she looking at?

"I do not."

Her whole face changed; from concerned to her 'oh really' face.

Brows raised and lips pursed.

Apparently she had a different opinion.

"Oh ok. So how did that whole Kaitlyn thing start again? I forgot."

I opened my mouth, about to reply, but then closed it.

Nope.

I was being territorial and jealous.

"That's what I thought."

"Alright! I promise not to freak out. Let me look!" She sighed, and relaxed against her chair.

As I turned, I was half expecting her to slap me again.

I saw that sick satisfaction in her eyes when she did it the first two times.

She'd been holding that in for a long time.

But when my brain finally registered who she was looking at, I realized why she was so insistent on me keeping calm.

There, in a nice cozy booth pulled off to the side, sat Punk.

And another woman.


	14. Heart Working Double Time

It took all I had to stop from flipping the table over, and charging over there and making the biggest, goddamn, scene anyone in here had ever witnessed.

But I didn't.

I kept calm.

At least on the outside.

On the inside, I was running around with all sorts of possibilities, none of them good.

And my reaction to any of those possibilities were equally not good.

But I just sat there.

And stared like a creeper.

My problem wasn't the fact that he was hanging out with another woman.

It was that I had no idea who this woman was, and she was giving him looks I didn't exactly like.

Far from liked, actually.

And she was his usual type too.

Long dark hair, tall, half sleeve on her upper arm.

I wanted to stomp her face in.

But I didn't.

I couldn't help but think I'd seen her somewhere before.

"Text him." Kelly muttered, leaning in towards me.

I tore my eyes from the twosome and gave her a pair of furrowed brows.

She rolled her eyes.

"This is the perfect opportunity to see how he will be when you're not around."

I blinked.

"I don't know..." I trailed on.

That didn't really seem right to me.

But by the look Kelly was giving me it was either I do it, or she would.

Reluctantly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled open the blank text message I'd been meaning to send him.

_Peekaboo! _

I looked up from my phone, faintly hearing his go off.

I raised my brows to see he'd just taken one look at the screen and put it back down on the table.

I turned back to Kelly seeing her shake her head.

"See how long it takes him to reply." she encouraged me.

Still, it didn't feel too hot spying on him.

But I did it anyways.

_I see you..._

Another second, and his phone went off again.

I peaked over my shoulder, and was rewarded with the same reaction as before.

Barely a glance.

_No really. I can see you... _

This time, after the ten second wait for delivery.

I got a reaction I could live with.

His brows furrowed and he took the phone in two hands; replying.

_Woman! I am trying to have lunch with a friend! WHAT! =)_

The smilie face at the end was a nice touch.

It mirrored the one on his face while he wrote it.

I glared at Kelly.

Why do I listen to her insane ideas?

I didn't need to test him.

_I'm here. With Kelly. Eating lunch. _

Instantly, his head popped up.

He didn't even try to find me; it was like he already knew where I was.

Our eyes locked.

I could see him force down the swell of excitement, that made me smile.

Damn Kelly and her doubting.

_Lobby. Now._

And with a few parting words to the mystery woman, I watched him walk out to the lobby.

I turned back to Kelly.

"He want's to see me in the lobby..." I said.

"Ohhhh. Eli's in trouble!" she smirked; reminding me of school. I scowled at her.

"You, just stop." I muttered, pointing my finger at her sternly as I stood.

I all but ran through the open double doors of the restaurant.

I was barely two steps out the door when I was pulled by the arm off to the side.

My body pulled hard against his chest.

Lips didn't hesitate to take mine; it all sending me into a bit of a shock.

But that lasted all of a millisecond until I realized that the hard body and lips pressed against mine was Punk's.

I gripped the sides of his shirt, pulling him closer.

It wasn't a sultry looking kiss like most of ours were; it was sweet, and didn't last nearly long enough for my liking.

"Hi to you too." I mumbled against his ear; his face buried in my neck.

I was still pressed against him, standing on my tippy-toes.

He just made a couple of incoherent rumbles against my skin.

The thick of his beard tickling me.

I faintly felt his teeth scrape against my neck, then his tongue.

"Whoa, there cowboy. Don't be writing checks you can't cash right now..." I whispered to him, pushing back on his shoulders.

"Don't you have a romantic lunch to be getting back to?"

I'd intended my words to be a joke, but as I said them they pissed me off.

I couldn't hid it from my voice.

That got his head to snap back, brows furrowed.

"Don't be getting jealous on me now..." Punk muttered, the faintest grin appeared on his lips.

I rolled my eyes.

"I don't get jealous."

I still refused to admit it.

"Don't you give me that look too!" I grumbled looking back at his face; it almost the same as Kelly's earlier. But cuter.

"But seriously. Don't worry. Lita is just a friend." he tried to assure me.

He should have known better then that.

I wasn't going to stop worrying until I was sure I was the top dog.

My thoughts halted at the name he called her.

I blinked realizing why she looked so familiar.

"Wait wait wait. Lita. As in WWE Lita?"

He nodded. "As in Edge and Lita, Lita."

His face scrunched up slightly, but he nodded anyways.

"Team Xtreme, Lita?"

"Yes, it's the same Lita. Calm down." He smirked as he spoke.

I shrugged, trying to ease up just a little.

I wasn't weird that I didn't immediately recognize her.

We ran in two completely different circles.

I was about to say something when I saw Punk look over my head.

"Hey, thanks for lunch Eli, it was great." Kelly smirked devilishly as she handed me my credit card.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

Apparently, I'd just paid for lunch.

Cool.

I rolled my eyes and shooed her away.

I was too focused on Punk to care any way.

"Yeah, I should go too." I muttered, earning me a pair of furrowed Punk brows.

"You're not going to stay?" he sounded disappointed.

I shook my head.

"If I do, you know exactly what will happen..." I trailed on.

Minus the awkward 'I already ate' thing, I'd sit there for how ever long it would be, staring at her, imagining her death.

And every time she'd make a joke, or she'd laugh at one of Punk's I'd have to resist the urge to stab her with a fork.

Ok.

So maybe I was a tiny bit jealous.

It wasn't exactly something I wanted to do right then.

After a moment, Punk sighed.

"I suppose you're right. We don't need a bloodbath today."

I forced a smile.

Sure I didn't want to stay, but I didn't want to be away from him.

I was, selfishly, half hoping that he'd ditch her and hang out with me.

But this was Punk we're talking about.

The fiercely loyal friend.

"Yeah. I guess I'll just go take a nap. Or something. Maybe I'll try on my new outfit for tomorrow night..." I teased.

Punk cocked a brow.

"Oh and Kelly wanted me to tell you-" I started, but Punk covered my mouth with his hand.

"I'm going to see this one before hand. Don't even start with that again." he growled cutely.

I pouted.

"But I liked it when you jumped me." I whispered.

Both Punk's brows twitched.

Oh yeah.

He remembered that.

"You know. When you'd push me against the wall, pressing into me, and kiss me." I whispered again, closing the less then a foot gap between us.

I was almost flush against him now.

My fingertips sliding up his t-shirt, making tiny circles on his ribs.

He exhaled, staring at me.

Yeah.

I was playing dirty.

After three days without him, I wanted him all to myself.

Certainly not share him with one of the only Diva's in history that could rival my sleep count.

Ok.

So maybe I was a lot jealous.

"Eli..." he trailed on; chastising me.

I sighed, taking a step back.

"Alright, alright. I guess I'll be upstairs." I slouched my shoulders, defeated.

I wasn't expecting Punk to scoop my face in his hand when he did; it catching me slightly off guard.

He leaned down, about to kiss me, when he whispered.

"I missed you."

I couldn't help but smile at him.

"I missed you too."

Of course I did.

That's why I wanted him to leave with me.

"I love you."

That made my smile widen.

"I love you too."

I barely got it out before he pressed his lips to mine again; hard.

It was another second or so that he pulled away.

After some quick goodbyes, he was walking past me and I was headed up to our hotel room.

I spent the next three steps trying to shove him and Lita eating together out of my mind when it dawned on me; the reason why I was so aggressively jealous towards her.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned on my heal.

"Lita as in you're ex, Lita?" I asked, brows furrowed, lips pursed together, and my arms crossed.

Punk froze too, his head sinking into his shoulders, like he was hoping I wouldn't remember that bit.

Oh but I did.


	15. But They Don't Know Me Yet

**Sorry for the delay! And that it's so short. Promise, the next one is longer! **

**Thanks for being patient!**

**With love, **

**Skee**

He turned slowly.

His face revealing just how deep of trouble he thought he was in.

And for once, what he thought he was going to get, he did.

"No. Actually, she's you're two time ex isn't she?" I asked rhetorically as I strode back over to him.

Oh boy was he in trouble.

I didn't stop until I was right back a few inches from him.

My finger tapped my chin in mock pondering.

It was another few moments before I started to simmer over.

"I can't believe you!" I whispered.

It was the only words I got out before he went on the defensive.

"Eli, she's just a friend. She was before we dated."

I made a blatant face of disgust while he spoke.

He only paused a moment, showing me he wasn't too impressed.

Then he continued.

"And she is now. Stop being so psycho jealous." he muttered the last bit.

I may have been acting psycho jealous, but it was certainly warranted.

Not only was she an ex, which was bad enough.

She'd gotten a second chance with him; that was the worst part.

My brows were furrowed as Punk and I started with our usual staring contest to see who was right and who was wrong.

The look on Punk's face started to melt my resolve; it absolute honesty.

He was completely serious on the fact that she was just a friend now.

I thumped my foot impatiently, refusing to look away first.

But I couldn't stand there anymore.

I was too close to the obvious defeat.

With a huff I whirled around and stomped on towards the elevators.

I didn't get more then a handful of steps before Punk grabbed my arm and turned me back to him.

He forced me against him again; his lips hard against mine.

Now this kiss was sultry.

And dirty.

And absolutely hot.

Hopefully there weren't any children around, because we certainly would have scarred them in some way.

My hands, balled into fists, eased as I fell into the rush of his kiss.

When he felt me relax, Punk's hands wasted no time taking us from dirty, to grimy.

Both his hands came around my hips and cupped my ass, pushing me closer to him.

My own hands grabbed his biceps, barely able to keep a grip.

His arms were huge compared to my dinky little hands.

It was barely another moment later when we both started to notice the eyes.

Feel them burning into our skin.

We weren't stuffed away in the corner anymore.

We were in full view of the entire lobby.

I felt Punk stiffen at the sudden show we were putting on; he started to pull back.

I cupped my hand around the back of his neck, keeping his lips against mine for just another second longer.

If I was going to leave him alone with his ex, I was going to make sure that everyone who saw them knew he was mine.

I kept us like that, throat deep in each other, for another moment.

Any longer, and Punk would be more pissed then turned on.

Punk rested his forehead against mine for a moment before he spoke.

"What was that about writing checks you can't cash?" he whispered.

I smirked.

"I'm more then willing to spend the afternoon cashing all sorts of checks..." I whispered back to him coyly.

My hand at his neck trailing down his chest to rest at his stomach.

I could see him seconds from giving in. But something changed in his face.

"You play way too dirty."

I couldn't stop the evil smirk rising on my cheeks at his tone.

"I'm going back to my lunch."

I groaned.

Of course he was.

"I wont be gone long. Just an hour or so."

"Fine then. But I want to listen the whole time."

I crossed my arms.

Punk just shot me his no-way-in-hell look.

"Eli..." Punk warned.

Ok.

Maybe I was being a little unreasonable.

Plus.

I didn't want to hear that shit.

"Fine then. I want a text every five minutes."

"Eli!"

But I was putting my foot down.

I didn't like this one bit.

"Fifteen minutes?" he cocked a brow slightly, and tilted his head.

Oh god he looked so damn adorable.

I sighed.

Damn him.

"Fine. But you only get to be gone an hour."

He leaned down, wearing a smile of triumph, and kissed me.

"And not a minute late. Or else."

Again he cocked a brow at my open ended threat.

I was just as curious as what that meant as he was.

I was actually almost hoping he was late.


	16. Can You Feel It?

Sure, I'd thought that then, but now after he'd been gone for almost the whole hour, I was achingly impatient.

I'd intended to come up here for a well deserved nap, but with Punk texting me every fifteen minutes, that didn't work out too well.

And I wasn't about to tell him to quit it either.

_I'm paying the check now. Probably another ten minutes or so._

Was his last text.

That was almost fifteen minutes ago.

If he didn't text again in the next minute, I'd go crazy.

And the whole building would know.

I was pacing the room, too impatient for my own good, when I heard the door being messed with.

I froze dead in my tracks until the door swung open and Punk entered the room.

He only glanced at me, and mouthed something through the open doorway.

Someone was out there.

He gently clicked the door closed, and turned to me.

He smiled sheepishly at my furrowed brows, probably realizing just how close he'd cut it.

"Lita's in the hall. She wants to meet you."

I scoffed at his light tone.

I'd developed a completely different mood since I'd left him down in the lobby.

I'd gone from jealous and slightly concerned to ridiculously pissed off for no reason.

Even I couldn't think of one.

His brows shot up when he noticed the change.

"Alright, alright." he said, taking a step back, with his hands up; opening the door again.

He stuck his head out and spoke to her.

I didn't quite hear what he was saying though.

Another second or so, and he was back in the room holding me in his gaze.

It seeming a little confused.

"And why are you so grumpy?"

I sighed.

"I don't know."

I plopped down on the bed, reminded just how exhausted I was by it's softness.

"I guess I'm just over tired."

Punk furrowed his brows slightly and came to sit next to me, pulling me under his arm.

"I didn't sleep very well this week." I mumbled against his chest I'd turned into to rest my head on.

I felt him nod.

"Me either."

I wrapped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes.

I started to drift to sleep, finally, when Punk jostled me.

"Babe, don't fall asleep on me. I got to go to the gym."

I groaned, shaking my head and holding him tighter.

"You can always come with me..." he trailed on.

I groaned again and threw myself on the bed on the other side of me.

I damn well didn't want to go to the gym.

I heard his delectable chuckle, and felt his hand on my hip.

"Get ready for bed. I'll tuck you in."

I didn't think twice about ripping my shirt over my head.

Or to glance back at Punk as I did it.

There was really no reason for me to take my shirt off; I just wanted him to see me.

Punk gawked at me for a moment, then scowled when he saw the smirk cross my lips.

His eyes stayed narrowed as he turned to get his gym clothes on.

I pulled my shirt back on, seeing that there was really no reason for it to be off, and pushed my pants down my legs.

He was unbuttoning his fly, after pulling out his black gym shorts, when I spoke.

"So you're really going to make me wait until you get back from the gym?" I asked, lying flat on my back on the bed, arms underneath my head.

Punk's head whipped around at my words; brows furrowed.

"You know exactly what I mean." I answered before he could ask his question.

"It's not like the gym wont be there when we're done..." I trailed on, putting on my best puppy dog face.

He could never resist that face.

And he took his damn time proving me right too.

It took him a whole two seconds to contemplate my proposition before tossing his shorts to the floor.

I couldn't stop the smirk from crossing my lips when he knelt on the bed, tugging his shirt over his head.

He tossed it aside, and started towards me.

The look he was giving me was something else.

Something raw.

And hot.

It got me shaking with excitement.

I couldn't stop myself from poking the bear some more.

"Or do you have another romantic date to go to?"

I was panting, and my words were breathless as I watched him prowl up my body.

My words forced him to cock his head to the side, a mischievous smirk crossing his lips.

Punk's hand came behind my neck, fingers digging into my blond hair, and pulled my head up to his as he hovered over me.

"Shut up." he muttered, pressing his lips hard against mine.

My lips creased into a smile, and my hands made a beeline for that bare chest of his.

His skin was just the way I left it, smooth, soft, and perfectly taught against his lean muscles.

The fact that it was now tickling my palms with faint hairs was just a bonus.

Punk let out a growl as my hands rounded around his pecks.

He pulled back a second, and spoke.

"Don't even say it."

I dropped my jaw mockingly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" I whispered, leaning back up to kiss him.

He soon forgot about where my hands were and refocused on where his were.

His one hand was still in my hair, holding my lips close to his, but his other was everywhere else.

It was like he hadn't touched me in a million years.

It might as well have been that long.

He trailed it up and down my bare thigh, and around my butt, then over my hip to my stomach.

It was then, that I decided to speak.

I'd kept my hands almost exactly where they were, messaging his chest and pecks.

"Oh, you meant 'boobies' right?" I paused, pressing my palms against him.

He scowled at me.

"Oh Baby, I'd never say that to you." I smirked and kissed him lightly again.

I moved both my hands from his chest, up his neck.

I petted his beard as I kissed him, persuading him to forgive me for my teasing.

He did so quickly, wasting no time dividing my lips with his tongue.

There was only a quick moment of blissful exploration on either of our parts, before a knock sounded at the door.

I felt Punk try so very hard to ignore it, but when his best friend's voice came from the other side, he pulled away.

"Hey Punk! You're late to workout!" Colt yelled from the other side.

I groaned.

"Go away Colt!" I yelled, holding Punk's face in my hands, hoping that would keep him with me.

"Seriously? The guys got the match of the year in two days! He should be training!"

I looked up at Punk, who, of course, had switched gears. Instead of being fun and playful like he was not even five seconds ago, he was the awe inspiring ring general, intent on winning his bout.

I sighed, knowing I was basically forgotten now.

"Alright." I muttered, letting my hands on his face fall to the mattress.

Punk immediately jumped off the bed and continued getting ready, much quicker.

I ripped the blanket of the bed back and planted my face on the pillow.

Within a few moments I remembered just how tired I was.

I didn't get to drift any further before Punk's hand connected with my ass.

I yelped, and heard his chuckle; smooth and delectable.

I popped open on eye and looked up at him.

"Kiss me, I'm leaving."

I groaned but puckered my lips anyways.

Punk smiled and leaned down, touching his lips with mine briefly.

And like that he was gone from me.

Before I heard the door open, I cleared my throat.

"Yes?" he replied sarcastically.

"Someone was supposed to tuck me in..." I reminded him of his earlier promise.

Punk let out another faint, delicious, chuckle, and came back to me.

The thick down comforter was now covering my body, all the way up to my chin; Punk pushed in the extras on the sides underneath me.

I wiggled slightly and smiled wide; nice and toasty.

Quickly, I felt Punk's lips brush against my cheek.

"I'll be back later." He told me as he moved closer to the door and I moved farther from consciousness.

I made a noise, heard a different one, and was out.


	17. Fucking Nightmares

It was a cool spring breeze that brushed my face this mid afternoon.

It was refreshing.

Early April may seem only a little warm, but in Miami Beach, it was almost blistering on my New Jersey born skin.

I'd been all over the city by now, and along the beach.

Not only was the sun beating against it, but sweat rolled down my skin as well.

I was rounding out my longer-than-usual run; feeling long over due for the ease it brought me.

With the world blocked off by the dark musings of Taylor Momsen blasting in my ears, there was little that could catch my attention.

Unless it reached out and grabbed me that is.

I stepped out to cross the ever busy street, especially for a Saturday afternoon, when a hand wrapped around my arm a little too tightly.

Instantly, I was in fight mode.

Until I turned to see the 6 foot 5 inch, Missouri native staring down at me with a taught jaw and icy blue eyes.

There was no emotions in his gaze, but judging by the tension of his grip; it was the calm before the storm.

I stared at him, wide eyed, partly surprised he was here, but mostly scared shitless of what he would do next.

"Randy," I started, pulling out one of my ear buds with my free hand.

"I've been wanting to talk. It's good to see you."

I tried to sound as normal as possible, but with his tightening grip and deepening glower I was certain it was failing.

The next moments dragged on far too long.

And his words hit me far too clearly.

"Fuck you and your pity." he growled.

"I gave up everything for you. Family, friends, even my daughter! And you leave me for some punk rock wannabe with authority issues?" he scoffed, pausing from his verbal attack.

"You can blame me for your alcoholism all you want, but it's really you and the shit decisions you've made, and you know it."

Randy's grip on my arm tightened to the point of pain now.

I struggled to get away, but failed at that too.

"A whole lot of people would be able to breath easier if you'd just go the fuck away already."

Finally, his grip on my arm was gone, only to be replaced by the force of his shove.

I tripped backwards a few steps.

But when I finally regained my balance, where exactly I was standing finally started to sink in; just as a Miami metrobus sped towards me.


	18. Know You

My body jolted forward, into the darkness.

The last thing I remembered was the bus.

But judging by the lack of broken bones and the fact that I was still in Punk's hotel room, that was a dream.

And a nasty one at that.

Nightmares were part of my usual routine now, but none of them were that close to home.

I crossed my legs in front of me, and rubbed my eyes.

My whole body burned, like it really had been hit by a bus.

I relaxed some, deciding that I was in one piece and still exhausted.

I flopped back on to the bed, my face back into the pillows.

Sleep would have been instantaneous, if it weren't for the metal wire stabbing me in the ribs.

I groaned pushing myself back to my previous sitting position.

My limbs were heavy from sleep but I reached up and ripped my shirt over my head anyways.

That was step one.

Step two was something, thanks to Punk, I was especially good at.

I reached my hands back again, unlatching the hooks of my bra.

I sighed at the sudden relief my body felt.

I took another few deep breaths; my body instantly became more tired, if possible, now that that annoyance was gone.

I was still sitting, breathing, reveling in my sleepy way, when the door was suddenly shoved open, and a blast of white light blinded me.

I yelped, covering my eyes.

Why was it so dark in here?

There was a bang against the wall when Punk came into my vision.

I smiled, slowly able to wean in the light.

"Baby!" He started, scrambling to get inside the room before slamming the door behind him.

"Where's your shirt?"

He had his back to the now closed door, I cocked a brow at him.  
"What was that?" I asked noting his reaction upon opening the door and the bang that was bitching and moaning in the hall.

He chuckled, it sliding deliciously down my spine.

My naked spine.

My skin ignited as Punk stared at me; unable to keep his focus on my face.

Good.  
"I asked first."

I smiled again at his playful tone.

I pointed to the floor where I'd tossed the garment before hand.

He smiled back and stepped further into the room, stripping along the way.

I couldn't stop watching even if I tried.

My fingers twitched, eager to touch him.

His jeans, the last of his clothes, fell down his legs and he kicked them off before answering my question.

"Colt jumped the gun and thought since you sleep like a brick he could make all the noise he wanted."

I nodded and managed to stifle the yawn that forced it's way up my throat.

I caught a glance at the clock, it reading almost two in the morning.  
"Why were you out so late?" I asked, as Punk slipped under the covers.

He hadn't even laid down yet when my hand fell across his stomach.

I was propped up on my elbow, my fingers smoothing over his skin, and up to his chest.

Now Punk raised a brow at me and answered my question.

"Just hanging out." he shrugged, lying back on the mattress.

I resisted narrowing my eyes at him, and leaned down to kiss chest.

I didn't want to kill the moment.

I felt a faint sigh leave him.

"Eli, I've been up all day. I'm exhausted."

Again I kissed him, at the base of his neck.

"Who said you had to do all the work?"

At that he chuckled.

"We all know how that would end." he trailed on.

Ugh.

He was right.

I looked up at his face, hoping to have some chance to change his mind; he looked drained.

I too sighed.

Placing my head on his chest.

"I missed you." I whispered against his skin.

His arms wrapped around me, one hand petting my hair softly.

"I missed you too." he replied, kissing the top of my head.

"I love you." I whispered against his skin.

There was a brief pause.

But not brief enough.

I was about to turn to look at him when he spoke so quickly, I barely heard him.

"I love you too."

It might have just been my delirious sleep deprived mind, but something was up.

But I didn't push it now, just in case.


	19. Notice Me, Please?

The morning sun was warm on my skin, it easing me awake.

I lazily rubbed my eyes free from sleep and spread my arms out next to me.

Empty.

The bed was empty.

My eyes snapped open and my head popped up.

I could have sworn Punk came to bed last night.

Quickly, I found my phone.

It waiting for me with a message from my boy.

_Sorry I had to leave so early. Gotta do a bunch of crap before tonight. I guess I'll have to meet you there. Text me when you wake up, love you. _

I smiled despite being kind of sad.

I barely got to see any of Punk yesterday and today would be the same.

No doubt tomorrow would be too.

Then I'd be off.

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed, texting Punk back.

I didn't get to start typing before I got another text, from Kelly.

_Wake up sleepy head! We've got shit to do! _

I groaned.

_What shit? _

I didn't have to wait long for her reply.

_Prep for tonight. Plus you left all your crap in my car. Meet me down stairs in 5 and we can get started! _

I groaned again, starting to pull on my clothes.

Once I finished with everything, I opened my message to Punk.

_You've left me in the clutches of Kelly for the rest of the day. Thanks. _

I slipped my phone into my back pocket and went to meet Kelly down stairs.

It was too hot for my jacket, even my jeans were killing me.

"I got to change before we go anywhere. I'm dying." I said to Kelly when she tried to push me out the door.

Of course she was prepared for this god awful heat.

She was wearing a colorful tank top and jean shorts, and her hair was up in a ponytail.

"Don't worry about it. We won't be in it for long." she winked over the rim of her sunglasses.

I was worried, but got in the car anyways.

It was twenty minutes later we were parked in front of the beach.

We could have walked, but Kelly said something about it being too hot to walk.

"Kel, I don't have a bathing suit."

She glared at me as I spoke, then groaned.

"Good thing there's a store right around the corner." she mumbled getting out of the car.

We walked around the corner to the beach store, where she instantly starting throwing things at me she wanted me to try on.

Here we go.

We spent almost forty-five minutes in there just looking at stuff.

Finally, she settled on a zebra print halter style two piece.

I couldn't complain, I liked it too.

I changed quickly and with a couple of towels, we were on the beach in no time.

Of course we spent the majority of the time fending off people who either knew who we were or were just hitting on us.

Most of them swooning over Kelly, per usual.

I was too busy staring at my phone, begging for a text from Punk.

"If you're going to stare at your phone all day, at least text him. Jeeze. You look pathetic."

Kelly spared no feelings for me.

"Oh, send him a picture of your new cute bikini!" she squealed, but soon got back to her sun bathing.

After another few minutes of drawing blanks on what to say, I conceded to her idea.

I sat up and snapped a fairly decent picture and sent it to Punk.

It wasn't the worst picture I'd ever taken.

I actually kind of liked it.

My hair was up, which never happened; it showed off my butterfly tattoo quite nicely; I had on my red Blues Bros sunglasses, and my suit top was all that could be seen.

I'd just put my phone down on the towel when it went off.

Instantly, I snapped forward and grabbed it.

It was Punk.

Finally.

_Aw. Poor baby. She's making you lounge on the beach. Don't go in the water. You'll melt. _

I scoffed at his reply.

Granted it wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it was all Punk.

_Rude._

I answered, seconds later and he replied again.

_No, what's rude is you going to the beach wearing that! You're practically naked! _

I smiled.

Much better.

_That's ok. Most of the guys who come to hit on us are here for Kelly anyways. _

I replied, maybe trying to ease his jealousy, or maybe trying to make it worse.

I couldn't decide.

_Alright. That's it. You are banned from the beach. Leave now._

I couldn't really tell if he was joking or not, but I kind of liked it.

_Make me. _

That was the last thing messaged between us for a while.

I was a little worried, but I laid back down and continued tanning anyways.

We'd spent almost a hour on the beach.

It was about time to head out.

I'd just finished folding up my towel when I was grabbed and thrown over a shoulder.

I'd dropped everything, including the towel and my phone, into the sand.

I was silently panicking, trying to figure out who was carrying me.

Seeing as Kelly wasn't making a big deal over it, and the ass I was staring at was oh-so familiar.

I guessed it was Punk.

And he marched us right into the water.

It was cold on my sun warmed skin.

I shivered, holding on to him tight.

"Should I be worried that you didn't freak out when I grabbed you?"

I shrugged at his question.

He wasn't wearing a shirt.

I liked it.

"I knew it was you." I answered, wrapping my fingertips in the hair at the back of his neck.

My other hand trailed down his shoulder to rest against his chest.

Punk cocked a brow at me.

"How? My ass?"

I nodded, smiling, tracing my finger around his skull and snake tattoo.

I'd wrapped my legs around his waist to keep me at his level.

"Seriously?" he sounded surprised.

"I stare at it enough." I mumbled.

He chuckled, and I kissed him.

It was a sweet kiss.

I hadn't kissed him since yesterday.

I had been deeply deprived of this amazing feeling of his lips against mine.

His mustache lightly scraping against my lip.

I reluctantly pulled back, feeling him tense up at all the eyes staring at us.

"Hi." I whispered against his lips.

"Hi back." he breathed.

"If you two are finished, we have a schedule to keep."

I glanced over Punk's shoulder at Kelly standing at the edge of the water, hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently in the wet sand.

But I wanted to keep talking to him.

Specifically, about last night.

But Punk picked me up and carried me back to the car.

He set me down and, after I toweled off, I went to the trunk for some shorts.

"You're going to put a shirt on right?" he asked almost glaring down at me.

I stared up at him and gave a little shrug.

Punk rolled his eyes and reached into the car for my tank top.

He pulled it over my head and pulled it down my torso.

I slipped my arms through and grabbed his Cubs hat that had surprisingly stayed on this whole time.

"Since we're making demands." I prompted as an explanation for my theft of his hat.

"I'll be keeping this."

And I jumped over the door of Kelly's convertible, and into my seat.

Punk narrowed his eyes at me, but leaned down to kiss me anyways.


	20. I Wanna Drink from the Words You Say

We'd left Punk at the beach hours ago.

Now I was back to begging for a text message.

I hadn't gotten one since.

But I figured he was working hard, so I let it go.

Kelly had practically lined up a spa day for us.

First we tanned at the beach, then went to get our nails done.

Kelly had convinced me it was a good idea.

I'd never been the girly girl type.

But since it was the Hall of Fame tonight, I figured I could put a little effort into it.

She got hers painted a chocolate color, and mine were fire engine red.

She rolled her eyes when I picked it out.

But it would go nicely with my outfit, I hoped.

After that, we went to a hair dresser so Kelly could get highlights in her hair.

While we were there, I decided I should probably get the dead ends of my hair cut off.

The stylist convinced me to take another inch or so off as well.

Then we spent the rest of our time shopping some more at the mall.

Where Kelly made me buy more shit I really didn't need.

Now we were sitting in her hotel bathroom, it less than an hour to showtime.

"Seriously Eli. Sit still. If I mess up again, I'll kill you." Kelly growled at me.

She was brushing on some sort of make up, after yelling at me for twenty minutes, I gave in.

I watched her in the mirror; it wasn't that bad either.

She was trying to apply eye liner and I kept blinking.

It'd taken us almost fifteen minutes to do one eye.

But thank God we were almost done now. I was barely able to survive five more minutes.

"Now, go out there and put your dress on. And whatever you do, don't mess up your make up!" Kelly warned.

I rolled my eyes and went out into the bedroom area of Kelly's room.

My dress for the evening was hanging behind the bathroom door, which had been closed so Kelly could get ready too.

I opened the bag it was in, and set the dress down on the bed.

For someone who doesn't like dresses, I sure did wear them a lot.

"Kel, I'm not sure if-"

Suddenly the bathroom door swung open.

Kelly was wrapped in a robe, curling iron in hand.

"Don't even start with that bullshit. Now get the damn dress on." she snapped and slammed the door.

Well then.

I sighed and did as she said.

Careful not to touch my hair or makeup, I pulled off my shirt; shorts were next.

I slipped into the dress, zipping it up as high as I could, and stepped in front of the mirror.

I felt naked.

Kind of.

And the dress had looked nice at the store too.

It clung to me like glue.

Wrapping around my torso, and a quarter of the way down my thigh; it felt like my own skin.

Not to mention the see-through portion around my shoulders. It came around my neck like a t-shirt, and cut off at the end of my shoulders; it provided little barrier when it met the top of the spandex fabric that barely rounded over my breasts.

Jesus Christ.

I looked like a harlot.

The mesh wrapped around the back of my shoulders, but that's where it ended.

I was just summing up the rest of the adjectives the dress made me look like when Kelly broke through my thoughts.

Ok.

So comparatively, I didn't look that bad.

Her dress was one that required double sided tape to stay in place.

Kelly came around and finished zipping me up; she had a smirk on her face.

"What?" I asked nervously; afterward, not really wanting to know.

She shrugged.

"Oh nothing..." she waved me off and pointed to my shoes.

"Come on. We don't have much time."

I sat down in the chair they were next to and slipped them on.

They were skin colored pumps with red soles, and I actually, genuinely, liked them.

Good lord, what was Kelly doing to me?

I shook my head, deciding not to dwell on that, and the unease I felt about going outside.

I grabbed my phone off the bed and followed Kelly, tentatively, out of the room.


	21. The Moment I Knew

I'd been standing in the corner of the entrance way to the arena for almost 25 minutes now.

I'd done everything right up until then; I stopped and smiled pretty for all the stupid cameras on the red carpet, I didn't smudge my make up, and I'd texted Punk when I walked through the door per his request via text on the car ride here.

He said he'd be waiting for me in the front entrance.

But he was nowhere to be seen since I got there.

Finally, I got fed up.

He wasn't the type to stand me up, but frankly that's what it felt like.

The last text I'd gotten from him was over ten minutes ago, and he'd claimed to be en route.

I sent him one last text, and took the few steps down to the main floor, very slowly.

Stairs were not something I'd practiced walking down yet.

I'd only taken one when a familiar southern drawl spoke to me.

"Someone looks like she can use a hand."

I looked up seeing Ted.

I smiled.

He was a sight for sore eyes, and exactly what the doctor ordered.

I was distracted from the Punk issue of the night, thank God.

Ted extended his hand and I graciously took it.

Once I was securely landed on the floor, Ted hooked my arm in his, and he lead me into the fray.

"I must say, you look very pretty tonight." he grinned at me.

Jeeze.

Complements.

"Thanks." I mumbled.

"Don't hurt yourself." Ted mumbled back jokingly.

I smiled.

"But before I lose you to Kelly or Punk, you want to be my date for a little bit? I forgot one." he smiled that southern grin that no one could refuse.

I laughed, but agreed.

If it could make my night better, I'd try it.

And it went swimmingly, for the first five minutes.

One thing I'd forgotten in the effort to make my night not suck, was that Ted's best friend was Randy.

Whom just so happened to be the next person we saw.

The three of us hadn't been standing there for more then two minutes before Ted dismissed himself to grab us some drinks; water for me of course, unfortunately.

I could have used a glass of champagne or two, or seven.

Which left me and Randy standing awkwardly in a group of people; but seeing as I don't like most people, and most people don't like Randy, we didn't talk to any one else.

We just glanced up at each other awkwardly a few times; probably wondering where the hell Ted went.

I knew how mad Randy was at me, and my dream last night furthered that belief; reality or not.

As if only to make it worse, Randy spoke to me, briefly and quietly.

"You look nice."

I actually felt my face turn red.

Seriously?

Was I back in high school or something?

"Thanks. You do to." I barely got it out.

Thankfully Ted was there a second later with my water.

I gulped it down, excused myself to grab another.

Secretly, I hoped the drink I picked up wasn't water.

Too much shit was happening.

Punk was going yo-yo on me.

Randy was talking to me.

Oh, and tonight was my last night as a WWE Diva, at least for a little while.

Then there's that.

I didn't think switching jobs would be this stressful.

Stupid of me to think it'd be easy to leave my literal dream job.

I mentally hit myself for almost grabbing a champagne glass instead of water, and stepped off to the side of the large room.

There were tons of people here; VIP fans, management, and other superstars and their friends and families.

I plopped down in a secluded folding chair, and crossed one leg over the other.

I sat there, watching all the other people I knew and didn't know talk and drink and have fun from where I was.

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.

Quickly, I looked, hoping it to be Punk, but it read blocked.

That could only mean one person.

"Hello?" I groaned into the phone.

"What's wrong with you?" my brother's voice sounded worried.

"Nothing really. Just bored."

"Oh yeah. You sound it."

"And it's not even the event that boring either." I stood up, seeing the eyes turn to me.

I'm on the phone people, not crazy.

I pushed through some doors, and ended up in the main arena where the ceremony was to be held.

There was a few people in their seats already, but no one I really cared to recognize.

"Then why are you bored?" Marcus pressed.

"Because I'm stuck at a party I barely want to be at; in an outfit I bought on a whim; and I'm dateless." I said in a rush, walking down the main aisle to my seat up front.

Eventually I found my name on a card next to Punk's seat.

Our seats were in the second row.

I glanced around, seeing Kelly's name two rows behind us, and Michelle's right in front of me.

Johnny was probably back near Kelly, and thankfully Ted and Randy weren't anywhere I could see.

"Why are you dateless?"

I sat down with a sigh.

"I don't know. I was supposed to meet Punk at the door, but he stood me up."

There was a pause on the other end.

"That doesn't sound like Punk..."

"I know. But he knew I was waiting. And he never showed. I was standing there like an idiot for half and hour. Then there's Randy, that was a nice blindside." I muttered the last bit, but of course, nothing could escape my brother.

And of course, he pried.

"Ted found me standing there and, to help me out, let me hang out with him, which I'm pretty sure was a set up to get me and Randy to talk."

Obviously my overly protective brother wasn't too happy that a good friend like Ted was trying to get Randy back into my life.

We talked for a little while longer, until more and more people started sitting near me.

Too many ears for a conversation with my imprisoned brother.

There's no way of knowing where a conversation with Marcus might go.

Now I was sitting in the chair, alone, again; reading the ridiculous tweets people send me, when I felt someone sitting next to me.

I was legitimately surprised to see Punk sitting in his seat, staring at me like I'd done something wrong.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What?"

"Where the hell have you been?"

I scoffed at his tone.

Seriously.

After he just ditched me, he wants to make this my fault?

"Well, I spent a good portion of my night waiting for you. Like an idiot."

I crossed my arms, sitting back.

Instantly his face changed and his eyes widened.

"Shit. Eli, I-"

I really didn't want to do this right now.

I cut him off.

"So is this what I get to look forward to now? Out of sight, out of mind?"

There was a pause.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked.

Like it would be that easy?

I looked him up and down disapprovingly.

But the more I took him in, the weaker I was against his plea.

My insides literally did flips and all I wanted to do was kiss him.

He was wearing a black jacket with matching black slacks, a white shirt, and a silver tie.

God, I wanted to do more then just kiss him.

But I was mad at him.

Not for just forgetting me; but something was up.

There had to be.

That was the only explanation.

He glanced down at his phone while I was checking him out, and pressed a few keys.

Apparently the man had better things to do.

I took a breath, and spoke.

"If you take that tie to bed tonight I could think of a few things..." I said straight faced.

I wasn't trying to be sexy in anyway right now, I was pissed.

And I wanted him the same way.

His head whipped up, and looked at all the people sitting around us; not too many that someone would actually hear what I said, but enough to put him on edge.

He glanced back to a seat at my back, I turned seeing Lita chatting it up with Colt, Kofi and some others.

The answering glare I got from Punk was all I needed to know that I'd crossed the line.

When in all actuality, I hadn't.

I'd said much worse things with people much closer.

So what the hell was wrong?

"It was a joke." I stated plainly, turning back forward in my seat.

I crossed my arms and stared at the floor.

Punk was back on his phone, doing God only knows what.

I didn't want to be there anymore; in the room; arena; or even the state.

"I got to go." I muttered, standing up.

He didn't try to stop me.

Or even call after me.

So I just walked very briskly backstage.


End file.
